


A Knife By Any Other Name

by Meimeiriron



Category: Static Shock
Genre: F/M, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:58:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meimeiriron/pseuds/Meimeiriron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiv, like all other bang babies, was human before the Big Bang. He had a name, a family, and a friend. It is the life and times of Shiv before and after the Big Bang. (Background fic) Implied Shiv/Ebon by Chapter 11.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Birth

**Author's Note:**

> So I don't own Static Shock, which makes sense. And since Shiv is my favourite character, this is sort of a homage to him and some of my favourite fanfictions based on his character. Of course, my favourite, 100 days, doesn't exist on the internet anymore which is sad, but you know if anyone has it do share the wealth, man. But seriously, yeah, this is it I'm not a great write.

**Chapter 1 – The Birth**

When Takahiro Tochi was born, nobody would have ever guessed he was to become one of Dakota's most notorious (or just annoying) metahuman menaces, and henchman of Ebon in the Metabreed. No, he was born as a perfectly healthy, happy baby; the pride and joy of Mr Tadashi Tochi and Mrs Hinata Ryugazuki, first generation immigrants into America who had settled and built their lives in Dakota. He had always been a restless child, crying night and day, though any colourful or interesting object easily pacified him, keeping his interest for at least a short amount of time.

His parents only started noticing problems with their child as his mental development seemed completely delayed. He learnt to walk at 1½ years old and only started speaking at 4. Still, he was a happy kid who saw no problem in his lack of ability to talk or walk. No, he thought he was a perfectly normal kid. Still, he was prone to tantrums every now and again, but mostly he was happy. He grew up smiling, and his relatives often called him a happy little bundle of joy.

He enrolled in school a year late, having difficulties in learning how to read and write, and then was held back another grade. His father changed his working hours so he could accommodate teaching his son and tutoring him in anything he needed, and then eventually quit his job to become a full time Dad. Still, young Takahiro found writing and reading so frustrating he often threw tantrums in class and left to hide in the bathrooms. He had to be forced to sit down and concentrate, when all he could think about was being outside and running around.

It was a nice summer afternoon, and Hiro was having fun running around with his friends. Sure, he was 12 while they were 9 and 10, but it didn't matter to him. School wasn't something he excelled at, nor was it something he liked. He hated that he was going to have to go to high school after that year. His friends had warned him that it was increasingly hard, and that he wouldn't have a teaching aid to help write things out for him; he was going to have to do it himself. Hiro tried not to dwell too long on it, after all it was all in the future and he would rather think of the present.

"Takahiro," called his dad, "Takahiro, come on, it's time to go home."

Takahiro groaned, frowning as he rushed over, stumbling a bit, to his dad. "Dad," he said, "It's Hiro. My friends all call me Hiro. I like that name."

"Of course you do," Tadashi said, smiling, "Come on, Hiro. I'll help you write your name, okay?"

"Okay," he said, taking his dad's hand and swinging it between them.

"Can you spell it for me?"

"T-a-k-a-h-e-r-o," he replied confidently.

"It's T-a-k-a-h-i-r-o, Hiro," he said, "There's no 'E' in your name."

"That's lame," he pouted, "I've been writing it as 'Hero'."

That evening, they spent over an hour working on Hiro's writing, but he could barely pay attention and after 10 minutes had stopped listening to his dad.

"Can I just go play?" he asked.

"Alright," he said, "Take care, okay?"

"Mm," he nodded, grinning before rushing up to his room to play some video game his dad had bought him some time ago. His room was a small affair, but at least it was his. His dad did all the housework while his mum got all the money, and he always made Hiro's room super neat, even if he didn't want it to be neat. Still, it was nice to have a clean room.

After a while, there was a knock on the door and the quiet creak of it opening. "Come on, Hiro," his dad said, "It's time for dinner. I made your favourite."

"Okay dad," he replied, tapping away at his controller, "Just a moment."

"It'll get cold."

"Just 5 more minutes, it's fine."

"It's burgers."

"Dad, just 5 more minutes."

Tadashi frowned and strode into the room, turning off the television monitor, to which his son shouted in objection. "You're coming to dinner, Hiro," he stated firmly, "Now."

Hiro huffed and tossed his controller down in a huff, getting up and storming down the stairs. His father sat in front of him at the dining table, eating the homemade burgers that usually made Hiro extremely excited. Still, Hiro didn't seem to be in the mood for that. He kept getting distracted; holding the burger halfway towards his mouth, jaw hanging open while he stared into the wall as if it were a action thriller movie. Half way through his burger, Hiro stopped eating and refused to finish.

"Come on," Tadashi encouraged, "It's your favourite."

"Not hungry," he muttered, "I don't wanna."

"You know Mum would be really upset if you didn't finish it."

"I don't care." Without another word, Hiro stormed back upstairs and slammed the door. Tadashi sighed. His son had always been difficult, but recently it had gotten worse, as if the impending preteenhood was aggravating his hyperkinetic disorder. Usually, his son would be off the walls at having burgers for dinner. He even asked to wait 5 minutes before going down to dinner, which was unlike the Hiro that Tadashi knew. His son would've dropped the controller at whatever point of the game he was at and run downstairs to eat without a second word.

"I'm worried," Tadashi told his wife that evening, "He's been getting so distracted, and I'm scared he's not ready for high school."

"He is," Hinata assured, "He is ready. You can't keep sheltering him, Tadashi. He's growing up, and we'll figure it out."

"He told me to wait when I told him it was his favourite for dinner."

"What?"

"I don't know what's wrong," Tadashi said, raising his hand to his face and shaking his head, "The doctors said he'd get better as he grew up, but he's not. He's getting worse."

"We'll take him to the therapist tomorrow, okay? Maybe it's the medication."

"He's been taking the medication fine, Hina. I don't know what's wrong."

"Don't worry," she said with a smile, "Let's go to sleep."

The next morning, Hiro felt lethargic and strangely unhappy. He didn't feel like getting out of bed, and he felt like maybe the world around him was collapsing, and the safest place was there under his blanket. His dad burst into the room, gently nudging him to wake up, to which he shook his head.

"Do you have a fever?" he asked, placing the back of his hand to Hiro's forehead, "Your temperature's fine. You don't seem to be sick. Come on, Hiro, it's time for school."

"I don't wanna go," he grumbled.

"Get up and get dressed," Tadashi said, "Come on, it'll be a fun day."

"No it won't."

"You'll see your friends, and you can play with them."

"No."

Tadashi sighed and nudged the boy, "Come on, I made you breakfast."

"Not hungry."

"Come on, you barely ate your burger last night."

"Dad, I don't want to go to school," he said, "I don't want to, I don't want to!" Then, the boy burst out into tears, and his dad picked up the small boy and held him in his arms, gently rubbing his back as Hiro cried against his shoulder.

"Okay," Tadashi said, "No school. Come on, let's go down for breakfast." Hiro continued to cry, mumbling incoherent words as Tadashi carried him down the stairs and to the living room. He tried to put his son down, but he refused, clinging onto his dad as if he were the only life source he had. At least he wasn't a heavy child, Tadashi thought to himself. Hiro had always been a scrawny little kid. He ran around too much, and had an incredibly high metabolism from his disorder. He usually ate tons, and was never not hungry, but this was an anomaly Tadashi did not understand at all.

Eventually, Hiro's crying subsided to a few sobs, and he let go, plopping himself down on the couch. He pulled his feet up and crossed his legs, still looking frustrated and upset.

"What's wrong?" Tadashi asked.

"Everything," he replied.

"I'll get your toast," he said, walking to the dining table to fetch the plate, along with a glass of water and a little blue, translucent box with pills in them. Hiro nibbled mindlessly on the toast, then gave up a quarter of the way in. He put it down, then shuffled so he was looking away from his dad.

"Time for your medication," Tadashi said, sitting down next to Hiro, holding the glass in one hand. In the outstretched palm of his other hand was the white little pill that helped to quell some of Hiro's energy.

"No," Hiro said.

"Hiro, what's wrong with you today? You usually always—"

"No, dad, no," he exclaimed, "I don't want to take my medication!"

Tadashi huffed, "I don't want to have to do this."

"Do what, Dad? I don't care, I don't care anymore!" Hiro pulled his knees up to his chest and clutched at his spiky black hair, pulling them down as he tried to cover his ears. He shook his head, refusing to comply to his dad.

Tadashi sighed, putting the glass of water down and grabbing his son by his cheeks. While his son tried to move away, he managed to open the boy's mouth enough to put the pill in, then quickly moved to get him to drink water and take the pill. He felt guilty, of course, but his son had to take his medication. That was it, he decided, he was going to bring his son to the doctor and get him checked out.

Hiro refused, of course. He shouted, screamed, begged for Tadashi to stop. He cried and refused to walk or get into the car. Tadashi took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He had to keep calm. He couldn't lose his temper.

When they arrived, Tadashi had to drag his son kicking and screaming into the waiting room of the doctor's. The other patrons looked at him, and he just smiled, saying it was fine.

"Let go of me!" Hiro shouted, "I hate being carried, let me go!"

"Only if you promise to be a good boy," Tadashi said, trying to maintain his grip on his wiggling son as he told the nurse about his problem.

"No!" he shouted, "No, no, no! I wanna go home, I hate this, why do I always have to go to the doctor!"

"It's for your own good," he said sternly, "You know that."

"No, I'm fine, Dad, I'm fine!" Hiro cried, "I'm fine, I'm fine! I'm healthy, why do I have to go to the doctor?"

"This way, Mr Tochi," the nurse said, and Tadashi sighed in relief that he didn't need to sit in the waiting room for the the doctor specialising with Hiro's case. Hiro continued to scream, causing weird looks from others all through the hall until they reached the room. When they entered, the nurse closed the door behind them and locked it. A desk sat the doctor, pulling out a file as they entered.

"Ah, nice to see you again, Mr Tochi," the Doctor greeted, "And you too, Takahiro. What seems to be the problem?"

"My son," Tadashi said, finally letting go of his son. Hiro plopped onto the ground and just stopped struggling, instead lying down on the ground on his back, refusing to move. "He seems to be having a problem."

"Well," he said, "Come on, Hiro, take a seat." He motioned to the chair in front of his desk, but Hiro shook his head and continued lying there. "Are you sure he's not just throwing a tantrum."

"If this is a tantrum, Dr Spalding, it's unlike anything I've ever seen before," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. He bent over to pick up his son, who started struggling again, before putting him down on the chair. "He's been, I don't know, depressed since this morning, and acting incredibly strange. He didn't want to eat, and you know him. He loves food."

"I see," Dr Spalding said, turning to look at the grumpy boy sat in front of him. He smiled, "Come on, Hiro. I'll ask you a few questions, okay?"

The session seemed to drag on for eternity. Hiro didn't want to answer questions, so after the first four he started repeating "No, no, no, no!" over and over again until his dad calmed him down sufficiently for them to continue the questions.

"Well," Dr Spalding said, arranging the papers in his file, "From the symptoms, I think your son may have developed bipolar disorder."

"What?" Tadashi questioned, a look of shock rising to his face.

"This may be one of his depressive episodes, Mr Tochi. You see, when you have a bipolar disorder, it means you can have manic or depressive episodes, and Hiro seems to be experiencing his first depressive episode."

"Are you sure this has nothing to do with his hyperkinetic disorder?"

The doctor nodded, "Yes, I'm sure."

"What do I do?"

"We're going to adjust his medication," he replied, "He will need mood stabilisers, and I think you will need to increase the number of visits he has with his psychotherapist. He meets with her once a week, yes?"

"Yes, every Friday afternoon."

"I suggest that you bring him to sessions on Tuesdays and Fridays from now on."

Tadashi sighed, looking down to his feet, "We can't afford that. It's trouble enough for my wife to provide for the family, his medication, and the weekly therapy sessions."

"May I suggest another place?"

"Please."

"Have you tried the Freeman Community Centre? There's a wonderful social worker there," Dr Spalding said, smiling, "His name is Mr Robert Hawkins, and he does wonders with troubled children."

"My son is not troubled," Tadashi stated firmly, "My son's just a bit sick, is all."

"Am I sick, Dad?" Hiro asked, looking up at his dad with eyes full of wonder.

"Yes, you are Hiro," he replied, "And you have to take your medication so you get better, okay?"

Hiro smiled and nodded, as if he was finally reverting back to his original self. "Okay, Dad."

"Lisa," Dr Spalding said, to which the nurse looked to him for instructions, "Please take Hiro outside to the playroom and keep and eye on him. I'm going to talk to his father."

Lisa nodded and took Hiro by the hand, leading him out of the office. He was smiling again, and was gaining a small hop in his step as he arrived in the playroom.

"Lisa?" he asked, and the nurse nodded, "Can I play with everything here?"

"Yes, but be careful," she said in a gentle tone, "You don't want to hurt yourself."

"Of course!" he exclaimed, beginning to play with whatever he could get a hold of. No, he didn't understand his dad, but at least school was going to be over in the next week, and then he could have a nice summer vacation with his parents.

 


	2. The Last Good Summer

Chapter 2 – The Last Good Summer

Tadashi was worried. He was scared of leaving his son in the hands of a stranger in this Community Centre. Still, the man had sounded lovely on the phone and said he would be very willing to help counsel Tadashi on Mondays after school. That afternoon, Hiro was restless, wanting to go run off whilst Tadashi kept a tight grip on the boy's hand. As they entered the office, he looked to the man behind the desk and smiled.

"I'm Tadashi Tochi," he introduced.

"Robert Hawkins," he said, turning to look at the little boy with a warm smile, "And you must be Takahiro Tochi."

"Yes!" the boy said, grinning, "Okay, bye Dad!" He pulled his hand away from his Dad's grip and started trying to push his Dad out of the room. "I wanna finish the session."

"Okay, okay!" he said, "I'll be waiting outside." With that, he walked out, though he did pause to glance back as his son hopped onto the seat in front of the desk, swinging his little legs as he sat.

"So, Takahiro, how are you today?" Mr Hawkins asked.

"I'm good," he said, smiling, "I'm really good. Today at school we got to make little paper cranes. I couldn't make any." He looked at his hands and frowned. "My hands shake a lot. My Dad says it's because I'm sick, so I can't hold things well. My hands always shake."

"Well, maybe we can help fix that," he said, smiling, "I can help you, if you want."

"Nu-Uh, Mr H" Hiro said, shaking his head, "I'm okay. I'm fine. My Dad says we might get medication to help me with the shaking, but he's helping me."

"How's your relationship with your Dad?"

"Good!" He grinned, "He's the best Dad ever."

"I'm glad. And your mum?"

"She's good," he said, "I don't see her a lot. She's always working. She leaves before I wake up and comes back after I go to sleep. Usually it's just me and my Dad."

"So, how has school been for you?"

"Difficult," he said, pouting, "I'm older than the rest of my class, and next year I'm going to high school, but I can't even write properly yet. My Dad says I'll have an aid next year too, but it'll be so hard."

"Don't worry," Mr Hawkins said, "You'll be fine, I'm sure of it."

The session went on well, in Hiro's opinion. He went running out of the office and straight into the arms of his Dad. He took his Dad's hand and started walking off, talking on and on about how the session was. Tadashi was just happy his son was happy.

Hiro was upset about having to continue therapy and counselling on throughout summer vacation. "Please, Dad?" he asked, looking up at his Dad with large, brown eyes, "Why can't we go on holiday?"

"We can't, you have to go to your counselling, remember?" Tadashi said, picking his son up and plopping him down on his lap, "Come on, we can have plenty of fun here, right?"

"Hmm, can we go to the amusement park?"

"If you're good."

He grinned, "Dad, Dad, Dad I've been a good boy, can I go play?"

Tadashi nodded, "Of course."

To Hiro, the summer went by slowly. It seemed that every minute was an hour and every hour was a day and every day was an eternity that never ended. Eventually, the end of summer came, and he was probably one of the only kids excited to go to school. It was high school, it was the start of something completely new. He was going to make new friends and meet new people, oh Hiro was excited he could barely stay in his seat while his Dad fed him breakfast.

"You packed everything, Hiro?" he asked.

"Mmhmm!" Hiro replied enthusiastically, swinging his legs above the ground. He was still a small kid, and Tadashi suspected he might continue to be the smallest guy in his year for a while. "Dad, I'm super excited, what's gonna happen?"

"Nothing bad," Tadashi replied, smiling. He placed the pills in front of Hiro, along with a glass of water, and the boy downed them all in one swallow. "Good job, Hiro. When we get to school, we're going to introduce you to your learning aid. She will be with you in your classes and help you write."

"Okay," he said. "My handwritings improved though, Dad."

"Yes, I know," he replied, "But this is just in case. You may be getting better, but you can't write as quickly as the other students. Whenever you have a question, you ask her, okay?"

"Okay!" He nodded his head and hopped off the seat, "Come on, Dad, I want to get to school!"

When they arrived at Dakota Union High, they went straight to the learning support office to meet the lady that was supposed to help Hiro. She was a kind looking lady with soft features and a kind smile, and her name was Ms Kimberly. Hiro liked nice people, though he hadn't really dealt with any bad people. She placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the homeroom class, where he would meet all of the other students in his class.

Hiro was excited, grinning from ear to ear as he entered the classroom. There were rows and columns of desks, occupied by a scattering of people. He took a seat at the side of the class, next to the wall, as guided by Ms Kimberly so she could sit next to him.

"Are you gonna follow me to each class?" he asked.

"Not all classes," she said, "Most of them, but I know you'll be able to handle yourself in some. Your father told me so."

"Okay," he said, "So will you just meet me in classrooms?"

She nodded, "Yes, I will. So you can hang out with your friends between classes, Hiro."

He grinned, then looked around the room. He seemed unsettled by the strange looks he was getting from the rest of the class. "What's wrong with them?" he asked.

"You're just a bit different, is all," she said, "There's nothing wrong with that, okay? Sometimes you need to know when you need help."

He frowned a bit, "Yeah, I need a lot of help in studying," then broke into a smile, "but it's okay! They'll be my friends." He got up from his seat and walked over to a group of white kids who were huddled around a bunch of cards.

"What do you want?" asked the one with his hat turned at a 45 degree angle.

"Are those Pokémon cards?" he asked, "I love those! I used to collect them."

"Yeah," the second one said, rolling his eyes, "They're cool, but the fun part is battling them. Not that you would know."

"I know how to battle them."

"Yeah, right."

"Why don't you believe me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, "I'm Hiro, by the way, it's nice to meet you."

The four boys looked to each other then burst out into laughter. The third one smirked, "More like Zero, right?"

"I'm Trevor," said the kid with the hat, "That's John," he pointed at the second one, "Mark," he pointed at the third one, "And Louis," he pointed at the last one. "Do us a favour and don't talk to us."

"Why not?"

"Cause you're weird," Louis sneered, "You're older than all of us. Aren't you ashamed?"

"No," he said, "There's nothing to be ashamed of."

"You're so dumb," John laughed, pointing at the teacher aid who had gotten up to speak with the homeroom teacher. They began to walk out of the classroom for a more private discussion. "You need a whole nother person to follow you and do stuff for you."

"She's my aid," he said, "she helps me write."

"What, you can't write?" They all laughed.

Suddenly, Hiro realised that these weren't nice people. He pouted and looked away, "Is that bad?" he asked.

"Yeah, it means you're dumb, you chink," said Trevor.

"Don't call me that," he mumbled.

"What? But you're a total chink. My Dad uses it all the time, says you good for nothing chinks are destroying Dakota!"

"I don't know what that means," he muttered, "Destroying."

Trevor laughed, shaking his head, "You're an idiot, you little chink."

"Don't call me that!" he exclaimed, covering his ears. Then, they started chanting it over and over again, and then the rest of the class joined in, and he just couldn't drown it out. Before long, he jumped on Trevor and shoved him back, causing him to topple to the ground.

"I'm Japanese!" he shouted, tears stinging at the edge of his eyes from the mixture of anger and sadness and distress, "Don't call me that, how dare you do that to me!"

With the ruckus, the homeroom teacher and Ms Kimberly rushed in, pulling Hiro off of Trevor and taking him out of the room. When Ms Kimberly tried to ask him what had happened, he cried. He couldn't take it. School was too difficult. He hated it. He hated everything, and it was only the first day of school.

That first day of school went slowly for Hiro. He stayed quiet, though shifting his position in his seat almost every minute. He couldn't stay still, and it was hard to pay attention. His mind would drift, and Ms Kimberly had to nudge him back into focus again. At lunch, he sat alone, because the other kids avoided him for his outburst, and he didn't know anybody else.

Then, he was met with his first proper bully. A kid in the year above, who was probably about the same age as Hiro himself, but probably twice the size vertically and horizontally.

"Hey, new kid," he sneered, smirking and walking towards Hiro. Hiro, not knowing what to do, began walking back until he was backed against a row of lockers.

"Hey!" he greeted, giving his best smile, "I'm Hiro, you are?"

"Dwayne," he said, "Nice to meet you." Then, he laughed, grabbed Hiro's arms and began twisting them painfully to the side, "I heard you picked on a kid in class."

Hiro let out a bark of pain and tried to pull away, "No, I didn't!" he shouted, "I didn't!"

The assault of slander continued, and Hiro began fearing for his life. The intense pain in his forearms was shooting up and causing his knees to go week for some reason he couldn't understand. It was then that his guardian angel, or at least what he thought was a guardian angel, came to his rescue: A tall, black teen in his Senior year wearing an unbuttoned black vest over a white t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. His hair was done up in cornrows, and it was the first time Hiro had ever seen hair that interesting before.

"What are you doing?" came the deep, stern voice.

"Teaching this kid a lesson," laughed the bully. Then, the mystery man stepped up and shoved the bully back, then grabbed Hiro by the side of his shirt and pulled him back to a proper standing position, all while scowling in disgust.

"Don't touch him again," he said, "I don't like bullies, kid, and if I catch you disrespectin' this guy again, I'll beat you into the curb."

"Alright!" the bully exclaimed, frightened, before scurrying off down the hallway.

"Thanks," Hiro said, looking up at the tall teen, "I'm Hiro, who're you?"

"I know who you are," he stated plainly, "Word spreads like fire in here. Asian kid who attacked his classmate at the first day of school for throwing some racial slurs." He gave Hiro a pat on the back, "You did good. Don't take shit from nobody."

"Thanks," he said, beaming up at him, "What's your name?"

"Ivan Evans," he replied, "See ya around, kid. Remember, don't take shit from nobody. Respect yourself." With that, the teen walked off with the rest of his buddies, leaving Hiro in awe of this amazing tall teen. Suddenly, his day was a whole lot better.

He was pacing around the sidewalk as he waited for his Dad to drive by and pick him up. There was a skip in his step, and he was excited to tell his Dad everything about his first day at high school. Sure, the boys were mean and the girls were scared of him, but that Ivan Evans was such a nice person. He was his new role model, he wanted to be just like him when he grew up. Finally, after what seemed like hours of waiting, which in reality was just a few minutes, his Dad pulled up in the driveway and he rushed and hopped into the backseat of the car.

"Hi Dad!" he greeted excitedly, "Today was really good. We were doing Math and stuff and I didn't really understand but I think I understand better than before, and Ms Kimberly is really nice, and I'm really happy about today, are we going to counsellor Hawkins today?"

Tadashi chuckled, "Well, Hiro, it's a Monday right?"

Hiro paused to think for a while, then nodded, "Mm! Yeah it's a Monday! I made a new friend, I think, I dunno he seems like a friend. Some guy was picking on me and then he comes up and he tells them to go away and he's so nice, his name is Ivan Evans and he's really cool!"

"That's good," Tadashi said, smiling, "I'm glad you had a good day. What was that about somebody picking on you?"

"Oh it's nothing," he replied, suddenly going quiet. He decided instead to maintain focus on the moving world through the car window. He wanted to tell Mr H all about his first day of school, and Ivan Evans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Ivan Evans makes an appearance momentarily? He comes back, you know. So, yeah, wait around for that I guess. Also, I kinda thought high school included things like middle school as well, since that's what happens in the British schooling system, as it's under the bracket of 'secondary school'. idk how it works in America but I'm just going with high school including the little 6th graders I guess. I realised this mistake but I'm too lazy to fix it now


	3. Bad Company

Chapter 3 – Bad Company

"So, tell me about Ivan Evans," Mr H said as the little boy brought up the name again and began to say how he was the most amazing person he had ever met. After that first day of school, Hiro had never failed to bring up the topic of Ivan Evans every single week. Even then, 7 weeks into the school year, there he was talking about him.

"He's great!" Hiro exclaimed, "He's my hero. He's tall and cool and he's amazing."

"Have you spoken to him?"

He nodded, "Yes, I did!"

"What's it like?"

"He speaks to me nicely," he replied, "Not like the kids in my class. They speak to me really rudely. I'm not a smart guy." His voice suddenly went quiet, and his gaze shifted to the ground. "I'm not a smart guy at all. Ivan Evans says it's okay to be dumb. He says he's not book smart, but he's street smart."

"So, how often do you talk to him? He's a lot older than you, isn't he?"

"I'm 12, he's 17," Hiro said, then burst out into a grin, "I'm going to be 13 in a few days! November 29th!"

"Yes, that's very good," Mr Hawkins said, "Well, you better get going on home, right? You have to prepare for school tomorrow."

"Yeah," he replied, laughing, "Mum comes back from her business trip tonight. I haven't seen her in so long."

"I hope you have something prepared to welcome her home."

He nodded, "Mmhmm! I made her a card. I wrote it all by myself!" He paused to pick up his bag next to the chair, pulling it open and taking out a messily made card with 'Welcome Home Mum' written messily across the front. Mr Hawkins couldn't help but smile.

"You're getting so much better," Mr Hawkins said, "I'm very proud of you."

"Thank you," he said, smiling, stuffing the card back into his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder before hopping off the seat. "See you around, Mr H!"

Hiro rushed out of the room with a skip in his step, once again running into the arms of his Dad, who was waiting for him in the basketball court. He took his Dad's hand, as per usual, and began telling him all about the session with Mr Hawkins.

"I'm so excited to see Mummy!" Hiro exclaimed as he burst out of the car when they arrived at their house. He was jumping in front of the front door, waiting for his Dad to unlock it and let them in. "I haven't seen her in so long!"

"Me too," Tadashi replied, sticking the key into the lock and turning it, then opening the door and allowing his son to run into the house. He sighed, exhausted. Taking care of Hiro was at the same difficulty as taking care of 5 rambunctious children.

"Go and play," he said to Hiro, "I'll make dinner."

"Okay," Hiro said, nodding, "But I have homework. Can you help me?"

"Of course. When you have a question you know you can ask me."

"Thanks, Dad!" he exclaimed, rushing up to his room to take out his work and try to answer the Math questions that were set.

Two hours went by and Hiro finally finished his homework, after running downstairs multiple times over to ask his Dad all the questions that did arise. Then, he began playing video games and waited for his Dad to call him down for dinner.

A knock came from the door, and his Dad entered the room. "Come on, Hiro, it's time for dinner," he said. Hiro nodded and dropped the controller, rushing to get out the door. He took his Dad's hand and walked down the stairs with him, chattering along about how he made a card for Mum and everything.

"She'll be arriving soon," he said, "So we better eat while it's hot."

Just as they sat down and Hiro began to eat, the sound of the front door lock turning and opening crackled through the silence, and Hiro immediately hopped off his seat to greet the visitor. His Mum stood there, looking exhausted yet happy, and he pulled her into a tight hug as she put down her bags.

"Mummy!" he exclaimed, "Mummy I'm so happy to see you!"

"I'm happy to see you too, Hiro," she replied, "Have you eaten dinner?"

"We've just started," he replied, "I made you a card!" Without a second word, he dashed up the stairs, two steps at a time, and then ran back down again, a crumpled card in his hand. "I made it all by myself."

Hinata took the card from his hand and smiled, opening it and reading the message on the inside. "Your handwriting has gotten so much better, Hiro. I'm so proud of you."

"Thank, Mummy," he grinned, taking her hand and leading her to the dining table, "Let's eat!"

Tadashi, who was placing Hinata's food on the table, smiled at his wife and walked over, taking her hands. "Nice to see you again," he said, gently kissing her cheek."

"You too," she replied, taking her seat. Hiro didn't understand love. His parents were supposed to be in love, or that's what he thought. But, as he grew older he started to realise just how tired they looked. They didn't talk much, and it was always silent. They rarely spoke, and Mum was always out working while Dad was helping around the house and cleaning up. Even when they said, "I love you", it wasn't in the way that people in the movies said "I love you". There was no passion in the voices of his parents. It was as if it were just lines they were forced to say, and Hiro didn't understand.

When he was finished with his food, he tried to bring his Mum up to his room to talk to her about the last 3 weeks.

"Sorry," she said, patting Hiro on the head, "I'm going to talk to your Dad, okay? Go up and play. I'll tuck you in later."

"Okay," he said, looking pretty sad that she refused. He went to his room and started up his game again, but all he wanted to do was talk to his Mum. He could hear the murmurs of his parents downstairs from his room, but as his parents continued speaking, their voices got louder and louder, and Hiro decided it was interesting enough to quietly sneak out of his room and eavesdrop.

"It's not my problem that you cannot take care of our son," Hinata said, folding her arms in front of her chest, "You should not be putting the blame on me."

"Hina, I spend every day taking care of our son. He's a handful, and with you never being around I think this is really making a strain on his mental health," Tadashi stated, "You have to understand, you need to be home more often. Hiro needs his mother."

"I work my ass off to pay the bills, feed the family, and afford Hiro's medication and therapy," she exclaimed, "I cannot be home more often or else we'd be broke. It's hard enough as it is, I don't need you nagging me, Tadashi."

"Our son needs his mother."

"Our son needs a mental institution."

Hiro peeked over the corner enough to see how his father slapped his mother, hard across the cheek, the loud thwacking sound reverberating through the room. His Dad had never hit his Mum before. He didn't know what to do.

"Don't you ever say that," Tadashi growled, "Our son is not insane. He's sick, you understand?"

"He's sick," she repeated, rubbing her cheek, "That's what you always say. He's sick. Hiro is sick. He's going to be sick for the rest of his life. He's a lunatic, Tadashi. Our son is a crazy idiot, he can barely pass his classes, he can barely do anything. He's useless."

"Don't you dare say that!" he shouted, hands balling into fists, "My son, not ours, my son is perfect. He's got problems, yes, but that doesn't mean you can say things like that."

"Our son needs to be locked up," she said, "Somewhere where they can give him medication and help him. I can't deal with this, and neither can you."

"Yes you can. You just don't want to."

"We should have abandoned him when we found out about his hyperkinetic disorder!" she shouted.

"No, what is wrong with you? He's not a monster, he's a child. He's 12 years old. How could you say things like this?"

"I work almost 18 hours a day and his face is not what I like seeing," she exclaimed, "Face it, Tadashi, he's a lost cause."

"I am not," came the quiet, little voice of her son. The parents looked towards the source of the sound, and they saw little Hiro standing there, covering his ears and shaking his head. "Why are you so loud?" he asked, "Why are you shouting?"

"Hiro," Tadashi said, voice gentle. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, but he just shook it off. "Hiro, we're sorry."

"I hate you both!" he shouted, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. He rubbed at his face, sniffling, "I hate you both, you're no better than the bullies at school!"

"Hiro," his Mum said, "Hiro, please."

"Mummy, I thought you loved me."

"I do."

"You don't!" he shouted, shaking his head as he cried, "You don't, you don't! Dad how could you hit her? You're both horrible, I hate you!" Hiro covered his ears again, then ran up to his room, slamming the door behind him and locking it. All he wanted to do was have a happy evening with his Mum. How could she say those things.

He shook his head, no, she was lying. She was just stressed, he decided. She was tired and stressed from work. He wanted to wipe this entire time out of his memory. He hated everything. He hated his Mum for saying those things, he hated his Dad for hitting his Mum, and he hated himself for being the freak of nature that he was.

Hiro wiped his face and tried to stop his tears. He could hear his parents knocking at the door, trying to get him to open it. He quickly pulled on his jacket and grabbed his school bag; stuffing it with odd bits of snacks he had lying around, then pushed open the window. His parents had his window child locked, but he had figured out a way to get it open past the limit, and began climbing down out the side of the house. When he was on the ground, he ran. He didn't know where he would go, but he knew he didn't want to be home.

He tried to remember places where he had gone to before, but couldn't remember much other than the way to school and the way to the Freeman Community Centre, so he chose the latter. It was cold, and dark, and Hiro was scared to death. He thought maybe he could hide somewhere in the Community Centre and just spend the night. He didn't remember falling asleep, but he awoke to someone nudging him in the arm and coaxing him to consciousness.

"Hiro?" came the familiar voice of Mr Hawkins, "Hiro, what are you doing here?"

Hiro slowly sat up, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. "I ran away."

"Why is that?" he asked, "Come on, we can talk in my office. We better get you warmed up." He stood up and took Hiro's hand, leading him to the office and getting him a blanket they had stored in the covered to wrap around his shoulders. He even made Hiro a warm cup of tea to hold and drink as he sat, swinging his legs.

"So, Hiro, why did you run away?" he asked.

"My parents had an argument," he replied, "I didn't like it, so I left."

"Your parents are incredibly worried about you."

"No they aren't, they hate me," he muttered, staring down at the warm cup in his hands.

"I assure you they were worried sick," Mr Hawkins said, "I've called them to tell them you're here, so they can pick you up. Why don't you tell me what's on your mind?"

"Everything," he said, "But nothing all at once. I want to go to school."

"I think it would be best if you missed school today and went back home. Not that I condone skipping school."

Hiro shook his head, "I wanna go to school. I wanna study and be smart like other people."

"You have to rest, Hiro."

Hiro's eyebrows furrowed and he pouted, then he dropped the cup of tea onto the floor and hopped out of his seat. Before Mr Hawkins could stop him, he had run out the door. He tried to chase after him, but the boy was gone. He was the fastest thing he had ever seen on two feet, he had to admit.

Hiro ran all the way to school, checking the clock at the front of the building to see whether he was late. He rushed straight into homeroom class, almost bumping into a dozen people on his way, and went straight to his seat, grinning.

"Hiro," called the homeroom teacher, "What was the rush? You know you shouldn't be running in the hallways."

"I know," he said, trying to catch his breath, "I was just, you know, getting some morning exercise."

"Don't do it again, or it's to the principal, understand?" she said.

"Understood."

Eventually, he was called into the principal's office before school even had a chance to start, and he knew it was bad news. When he entered, pouting and upset, his parents were standing there, concerned. When Tadashi saw him, he immediately rushed over and knelt down, pulling Hiro into his arms and hugging him tightly.

"Hiro," he said, "Don't you ever do that again. I was so worried."

Hiro sighed and held onto his Dad. He glanced up at his Mum, who just turned away, seeming to not care about him. His Dad picked him up and continued to hold him as if it were the last time they would ever meet.

"Don't ever run away again," he said, "I don't know what I'd do with myself without you, Hiro. You're the light of my life, please don't do that again."

Hiro pouted, then hugged his Dad, "Never again, Daddy."

They spent a good 15 minutes holding each other, before Hinata broke them up and told Hiro that he had to take his medications, which he begrudgingly swallowed. Then, he rushed off to classes, and Tadashi waved him goodbye, sighing.

"I hope you're happy," Hinata said, "He ran away because of you."

"Yes, pin the blame on me," Tadashi sighed, "I'm going home. Have fun at work honey."

"I will."


	4. Unlucky 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, contains some scenes of domestic violence, or at least implied domestic violence.

Chapter 4 – Unlucky 13

Hiro bounced out of bed that morning; the 13th anniversary of his birth! He was ecstatic; he couldn't control himself. He bounded down the stairs, revelling in the smell of fresh pancakes made by his Dad every time it was his birthday.

"Morning, Hiro," he greeted, serving up pancakes and putting it on the dining table in front of the boy. "I see you're cheerful."

"I'm 13," he said, "I'm so happy!"

"I'm glad you're happy," Tadashi replied, "You're hanging out with your friends after school today, right?"

Hiro stuffed his mouth full of pancakes and nodded, "Mm!"

"Chew slowly, Hiro. Don't want to choke."

He swallowed and grinned up at his Dad, "Of course, Dad! Thank you Dad!"

"You're welcome."

Hiro ran around excitedly as his Dad cleaned up before school. He drove them to the high school, and Hiro jumped out, quickly shouting a 'See ya!' before running straight into the school building and towards his homeroom class. He received a few birthday wishes from his classmates. He didn't even care about those bullies with the Pokémon cards, because everyone else was lovely and nice.

"Happy Birthday, Hiro!" greeted the girl, Michelle, who sat behind him in class, "You're 13 now, right? You're so much older than the rest of us."

He laughed, "Yeah, I am! But it's cool," he said, "I'm really excited, I'm 13, it's so cool!"

"It must be," she said, "you look so happy."

"I am, I am, Michelle!" he exclaimed, "I like being older, it makes me feel so mature.

The boys in the corner laughed maliciously, and Trevor shouted, "Mature more like in your dreams, crazy boy!"

"Don't be rude!" Michelle shouted back, "Hiro's lovely."

"He's an idiot," said Mark, laughing, "Stop hanging out with him, Mich, he's gonna rub his stupid all over you."

"Hiro is wonderful," she said, "Don't make fun of him."

Hiro put a hand on Michelle's shoulder and shook his head, "Michelle, it's fine," he said, cracking a small smile, then sighing, "I'm not smart, but that's okay. It's not a bad thing."

"They're being mean to you."

"It's fine, they'll get what's coming to them," he said, grinning, "I believe in Karma."

"Karma?"

"What goes around comes around, you know? So if you do bad, bad things come to hit you, you know?"

"Oh," she said, "That's cool. I hope they get what's coming to them. They're bullies!"

"It's fine," he laughed, "Thanks."

"No problem. You're my friend," she said, nudging him in the shoulder, "We're hanging out today, right? Henry says that his Mum's made a cake for you and everything."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah!" came the excited voice of Henry, "She says she thinks you're really cool and she thinks you're a real rolemodel for other students, you know?"

Hiro tilted his head, "Why's that?"

"Cause even though you've got problems, you don't let that stop you from doing what you do. You just do it!" he said, "You're really cool."

"Thanks guys, you're the best."

After school, he stuck with Henry, Michelle, and the rest of his friends, waiting for the arrival of Henry's mum to pick them up and bring them to somewhere to hang out. It didn't matter than he was older than everyone, they were all his friends nevertheless. Those bullies said he ought to grow up, but he didn't care. He really didn't.

The party went by in minutes for Hiro. It seemed to last only for a brief for a second, and then disappeared. It was fleeting, like a cloud, and he missed it. His Dad picked him up from the bowling alley and they went back home, and he was jumping excitedly in his seat through the whole ride home.

"Your Mum's very angry today," Tadashi warned. Hiro sighed, nodding. His Mum had been in a mood ever since the day he ran away. She was always angry and always shouting. She even barred up the windows of Hiro's room with a metal grid so he couldn't leave. She even took away his game station and told him he would only get it back once she thought he was good enough.

"Why?" he asked.

"She had a bad day at work."

Hiro craned his neck to see how his Dad was doing. There was a dark bruise forming on his right temple, and Hiro had a feeling they had an argument that day while he was away. His Mum's works hours had become as erratic as she was, and he hated hearing her shouting and screaming from their bedroom at night. It scared him.

"It's my birthday, though," Hiro pointed out.

Tadashi smiled. "I know. I got you a birthday present."

"Is it nice?"

"I hope you like it," he said, "I really do."

"What is it?"

"I can't tell you," he said, chuckling, "That would completely ruin the surprise."

"I love surprises! I love toys."

"I know you do."

When they arrived home, it was the usual arrangement. Hiro ran out of the car and jumped around in front of the door, calling for his Dad to hurry up so he could unlock the door and let them in. Hiro immediately dashed in and started running around the house excitedly, shouting about how Dad had bought him a present. Tadashi strolled in, closing the door behind him, and went to take out the present. It was a nicely wrapped box, which Hiro grabbed and tore open the wrapping, revealing an amazing toy robot box. He ripped open the box and took out the toy, swinging it around and grinning from ear to ear.

"Dad, Dad, Dad! It's amazing, thank you so much!" he exclaimed, running over to his Dad, who was seated in the arm chair, and hopping onto his lap, giving him a tight hug. "Thanks Dad, you're the best."

"No problem," Tadashi said, giving his son a gentle kiss on the forehead, "You deserve the very best, okay?"

"I'm gonna go play upstairs," he said, "Thank you Dad!" He hopped off his lap and began to run to the stairs.

"Be ready for dinner!" Tadashi called, "Don't forget to do your homework!"

"Yeah, Dad, of course!"

Tadashi made pizza for dinner, as it was one of Hiro's favourite kinds of food. He even bought him chocolate for after. His son was growing up, and he couldn't be prouder. Hiro rushed downstairs for dinner, digging in right away into his slice of pizza. Tadashi sat down in front of his son, eating, and eventually his mum arrived and sat down on the table as well. Hiro noticed she seemed quite unhappy, but he continued to chatter away and eat anyway.

"Do you like it?" Tadashi asked.

"Yes, of course!" he exclaimed, "You're the best cook, Dad. I love you!"

"And I love you, Hiro," he said, smiling.

When dinner was over, Hiro was exhausted and he rushed up to his room to play and rest. It was probably the best day he ever had. Of course, his happiness had to be ruined by shouts coming from his parents' room. He tried to cover his ears and shake it off, but the shouting only grew louder and louder, and he couldn't stop it. He hated it, he hated it. Then, he heard a loud thwack, and the sound of things toppling over and crashing into the ground, and then the sound of a body crashing into the ground. His heart was racing, he didn't know what to feel or think. He drew into himself, trying to hide in the corner of his room. His Dad hit his Mum again, he kenw it, he knew it.

The door of his room creaked open. He expected his Mum, but in reality it was his Dad, hair in a mess and bleeding from his forehead, the blood trickling down over his eye and the side of his face. He had glass sticking out of his left forearm, and when he tried to give his son a reassuring smile, he coughed and blood spluttered out onto the carpet.

"Dad!" he shouted, rushing over, but Tadashi raised a hand to tell him not to come closer.

"Call the ambulance," he said, "I, I just need some help." Then, he collapsed. Hiro shook his head, he didn't want to believe any of that was happening. He carefully stepped over the unconscious body and ran to the house phone, hands shaking as he dialled '9-1-1'.

The receiver rang and he was whispering to himself 'Come on, come on, come on,' as it continued to ring. Then, somebody picked up, "Hello, which service do you need?"

"I need the ambulance, right now!" he cried, trying to control his sobs, "My Dad's dying, you have to help.

The next hour Hiro didn't remember. All he knew was the ambulance saying they were on their way, and he remembered feeling dizzy and sick from the smell of blood. He stumbled around, then began to hear the sirens screeching outside. He heard people burst into the room, shouting, and he tried to hide, tried to cover his ears and drown out the noise but he couldn't. He was scared. They took out a stretcher, and he had a glimpse of his Dad being pulled into the back of the ambulance. His Mum was nowhere. A paramedic took his hand and asked him where any others were, and he said he didn't know.

Then, he woke up in an armchair in a hospital room. He glanced around, rubbing his eyes, then notice his Dad in the bed with his head bandaged up and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. "Dad?" he asked, raising an arm to gently nudge his Dad's shoulder, "Dad, are you okay?"

"He'll be fine," came the voice of a doctor, "He must have fallen over and hit his head against some sort of dresser. The glass seems to be from perfume bottles. He'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Is he sick?"

"He's just injured," the doctor said, "How are you? You fell down and grazed your knees."

Hiro glanced down at his knees and saw that they were wrapped and bandaged as well. "I don't remember," he said.

"It must have been incredibly traumatising for you. The paramedics couldn't find your mother, and since you were so young, the paramedics took you with them."

"Really?"

"You passed out, so they picked you up and helped you here. You crawled out of your bed and sat her after coming too," he said, gesturing to the empty hospital bed next to his Dad.

"I don't remember that either."

"It's fine."

"Who's gonna take me to school?" Hiro asked.

"You shouldn't be going to school, Hiro. You're recovering."

"How do you know my name?"

"You told me last night."

"I don't remember that either," he sighed. He could barely remember anything. "What happened? Where's Mum."

"I already said, we don't know."

"Did she leave us?"

"No, I'm sure she didn't."

Hiro sighed, "She was shouting at my Dad last night," he said, "And then he ran to my room after he fell and told me to call 911."

"You're very brave, you know that?" said the doctor, giving Hiro a pat on the shoulder, "Your mother was probably in shock at the accident. I'm sure there was no foul play. Investigations in your house by police seem to suggest that he slipped. They said they were surprised he maintained consciousness."

"Why didn't my Mum call 911?"

"We don't know, Hiro."

"What's gonna happen to me?" he asked.

"You're going to stay with a friend until your Dad gets better, okay? Or until your Mum returns."

"Is my Dad okay?"

"He'll be fine. His condition is stable. He will be fine."

"Okay."

The doctor left and Hiro's gaze fell to his hands. They were shaking again. They hadn't shaken so much since before the start of summer vacation. He thought he had gotten better. He thought his sickness was finally going away, but he couldn't stop shaking. He couldn't control it, his arms weren't his own and he couldn't stop them from shaking. He cried, he just wanted his Dad back. It was the worst birthday he ever had.


	5. The Gateway

**Chapter 5 – The Gateway**

It was January and the winter cold was still blowing through the streets of Dakota. Hiro had missed the rest of the last semester, and was ready for the new one to start. His mother picked him up from Henry's house when she finally came to her senses and left him at home most of the time. Eventually, Tadashi got better and returned home, though he seemed more distant than before.

Still, on the first day of school, he made Hiro breakfast and took his hand as they walked to the car, and spoke to him about how his recovery went in the hospital.

"Are you okay now, Dad?" Hiro asked.

"I'm a lot better now."

"Good."

"I hope you're alright. I'm so sorry for scaring you."

"It's fine," he said, shaking his head, "What happened?"

Tadashi went silent, then sighed, "Your mother and I had an argument. I slipped and fell and knocked over a bunch of things."

"Oh."

"Mum didn't hit me," he added quickly. "And if anyone thinks she did, tell them they're wrong."

"Okay."

"Have a good day at school, son," he said, smiling, "My little Hero."

Hiro grinned, laughing as he hopped out of the car. He waved at his Dad, then rushed into school. When he entered homeroom, all the students stared at him like he was an alien, and he was about to take his seat with Michelle rushed over to him and gave him a tight hug.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, "I'm so glad you're back! We thought you were dead."

"Me? Dead?" He let out a cackle of laughter, "Never."

"I'm still glad," she said, "How was your Christmas?"

"We don't really celebrate that," he said, "We didn't do anything. My Dad was still in hospital."

"Oh, well I hope you had fun anyway."

He nodded, "It's nice to be back at school, though."

He spent most of the day chatting with his friends and enjoying being surrounded by people around his age again. Granted, they were two years younger than him, but at least they were at least kind of friendly. At lunchtime, he was headed for the cafeteria when somebody grabbed him from the side and pulled him into a corner.

"Hey, man," he said, "You're that Asian guy who talks to Ivan sometimes, right?" The guy looked like a mess, with a huge coat and scary, wild eyes.

"Yeah," he said, "I haven't spoken to him for a while, though."

"Ivan wants you to have this," the guy said, taking out a small box from inside his coat and stuffing it straight into Hiro's pocket. "Don't show it to anyone."

Hiro nodded and watched as the guy scurried off. He took the box out of his pocket, glancing around to make sure no one was looking, and saw that it was a pack of cigarettes. His eyes widened in shock, and he flicked open the top. It was half full of cigarettes and had a lighter dropped in the mix. There was a small piece of paper stuffed in, so he took it out and closed the pack, putting it back in his pocket. He unfolded the paper and saw that it was a note, saying 'Join the track and field team, Hero. You'll save it while I'm not there. Ivan Evans.'

He burst out into a grin and rushed to the cafeteria. He heard about try-outs for the new track and field season that semester, but they said no 6th grader had ever made it onto the track and field team.

After school, he rushed out to tell his Dad about how he was going to try out for the sports team. "That's great," Tadashi said as he drove them home, "Just try your best."

"Do you think I'm good enough?"

"The sports coach says during PE, you're the fastest kid on the track."

"I hope I make it in!" he said, grinning, "It'll be so good! Try outs are tomorrow after school. Will you come to watch?"

"Of course, if you wish."

"Thanks, Dad!"

* * *

The next day, Hiro brought his sports kit and sports trainers to school. Usually, he wore his faded jeans and white top, along with his favourite red zip-up hoodie. His Dad bought it for him from Japan, 4 years ago, and it was now faded and tearing at the seams. He never really wore sports clothes, except for PE class.

He told Michelle and Henry about how he was trying out for the track and field team, and they thought he was absolutely crazy.

"Hope you're ready for failure," came the mocking voice of Trevor, "Not that it'll be much of a surprise, seeing as you're such an absolute failure."

"Don't say that," Henry said, "Hiro's the fastest guy in our year."

"Also the dumbest."

"Don't be mean!" Michelle shouted, "Hiro, you're amazing."

"It's fine," Hiro said, laughing, "I really don't care."

It was hard to stay focussed in lessons that day. Ms Kimberly had to constantly nudge Hiro into paying attention to what was being taught. He just couldn't concentrate. When the end of school bell rang, he rushed straight out to the changing rooms in order to get dressed into his sports kit. When he got onto the field, there were already other track and field hopefuls, all in the years above, trying out, as well as the current team practicing.

"Name?" came the deep, gruff voice of Coach King. He was the sports coach for the older kids, so Hiro had never spoken to him before.

"Takahiro Tochi," he said, "But just Hiro is fine."

"Alright, Hiro, what grade?"

"6th."

The coach stared at him, raising an eyebrow, then laughed. "Good luck, kid. Just don't act too crushed if you don't get in, okay?"

"I know I will," he said, "I'll get in."

"Alright."

Eventually, all the students trying out had gathered by the stands, and the coach was going over the list again to make sure he had everyone there. "Alright," the coach said loudly, "We'll be testing your 100m sprints. The first 8 people please get in here. After that, we'll be testing your throws."

Hiro was giddy with excitement; he could barely sit still as the first group went to run. When the coach blew the whistle to start, he jumped in his seat on the stands, then decided to stand by the side of the track and start hopping around.

"Look at the kid!" laughed some guys from the track team, "Isn't he in 6th grade?"

"Let him have his fun," another one said, "He's older than the rest of his year anyway, so it doesn't matter."

Hiro didn't particularly care, because he knew he was fast. He stretched, trying to get into the swing of things. He eventually was called to the track, and he was bouncing. He got into the start position, heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through his veins. "Ready", the coach said, "Set", all Hiro could hear was the beating of his heart in his head, and then the whistle blew, and he took off.

He sped straight, running right past the other boys from the upper years. He loved the feeling of the wind in his face, the wind in his hair. He was grinning as he sprinted, and he lowered his head, lowered his back and kept running, feet barely seeming to be on the ground as he ran. It was like he flew. When he passed the finish line, he slowed down, and turned around to see the others, who he had left behind in the dust. Eventually, the others got there, panting, while he had only lost a bit of breath but was mostly fine. He looked to the coach, who was completely gobsmacked by the situation.

"11.39 seconds," the coach said, "You've just set the record for your entire grade, and the next two grades above you, kid."

"Thanks," Hiro said, grinning. "Is that good?"

"That's amazing!" he exclaimed, "You're incredibly fast. You're going to grow up to be a great star, Hiro, was it?"

Hiro nodded, "That's me."

"Hiro, you're on the team."

"Don't you need to test my throwing?"

"Well, if you're insistent," he said, tossing him a tennis ball. "Overarm throw. See what you can do."

Hiro pulled a face and tossed the ball in his hands for a bit, then took a few steps back before running and tossing the ball forwards. The coach applauded, and Hiro looked up at the man, smiling.

"Good," he said, "You're a natural at this. You're shaping up to be the school's star athlete."

"Awesome!" he exclaimed, clapping, "Thank you, coach!"

"Trainings are Tuesday and Thursday afternoon, alright? You can go now, I've seen enough."

Hiro could barely contain his excitement. He looked to the stands and saw that his dad was there, sitting, and smiling down at him. He dashed up the stands and went straight to him, grinning.

"Dad, I'm in the team!" he exclaimed.

"I'm so proud of you, Hiro," he said, drawing the boy into a hug, "I always knew you would achieve great things. You ran so well today, everyone else could barely match."

"Can we go home now?"

"Of course."

* * *

Hiro wasn't going to lie to himself. He missed talking to Ivan Evans. He hadn't seen him since a week before his birthday, since he missed school and all, but he still hadn't run into him in the first two days of the new semester. The message that was delivered to him was by a messenger, instead of Ivan Evans himself. He sighed, staring out the window into the darkness of the nighttime. He took the pack of cigarettes out of its hiding place in the corner of the windowsill, and pushed the window open. He took out a cigarette and the lighter, and began to flick the lighter until a fire flickered to life. He lit the cigarette and put the filter part into his mouth, taking a breath. He coughed at first, smoke drifting out of his mouth as he did so. The first one was horrible.

Still, Ivan Evans gave it to him, so it had to be good. He took another breath of it, and by the 4th breath, it started to feel good. His nerves became less high strung, and he felt strangely happier and more relaxed because of the cigarettes. Eventually, the cigarette ran out and he stubbed it out, throwing it out of the window and into the grass outside his window, pushing the windows as open as they could get to get the smell of cigarette out of the room. He lit the little incense sticks and allowed the aroma to mask the smell. He smiled to himself; there was something about getting away with something rebellious that made him feel so devious, yet so happy.

Sadly, that first cigarette led to his addiction, and by March, he couldn't live without at least one a day. He would smoke discreetly with some older kids – the Juniors that used to hang out around Ivan Evans, a bit like a posse f sorts – smoking in an alley close the school. Cigarettes made him feel calm and normal, even for a short amount of time. He didn't tell his Dad, of course. He couldn't tell him.

He used some of his pocket money for cigarettes, but one fine day he was out of pocket money, and he had already told his Dad he'd find his own way home since he was hanging out with some other athletes from the team after practice. He had his bag slung across his shoulder, but had no money in his pockets.

"Shit," he muttered to himself as he strolled with the other track and field members, all two or three years older than him.

"What's up, Hiro?" asked Dmitri, the tall black teen in Junior year who was known for his amazing high jump skills.

"I don't have any cash," he said, taking out a few odd pennies, "How'm I supposed to get cigs?"

"Shit man, who knows," laughed Warren, the short, buff white shot-putter of the team. "I ain't got extra cash."

"Neither," Dmitri shrugged.

There was silence as they stopped in front of the store. Hiro shrugged, "I'll steal it."

Both of them looked at him, and Dmitri spoke up, "You can't do that."

"Why not? I'm fast enough."

"Dude, you're not gonna be able to do that. The fact that this store lets you buy cigs at your age is crazy enough. They ain't gonna let you steal any."

"I'll get it, don't worry." He laughed, pulling out a little Swiss army knife his uncle had given him for Christmas a year ago. "Stay outside."

Hiro, without a second word, dashed into the little store and held the knife at the clerk. "I need some cigs," he said, "Just toss me a few packs and I won't cut you."

The clerk backed up, shocked, and nodded, taking out 5 packs of cigarettes and placing them on the counter. Hiro, while still holding the knife up, picked up the packs and stuffed them in his bag. He didn't notice the clerk pressing the small panic button under the counter.

"The money," Hiro said, gesturing to the cash register, "Give me that too."

The clerk nodded, handing over all the dollars in the register, which Hiro grabbed, pocketed, and ran. When he was out, he placed the Swiss army knife back into his pocket and dashed down the street, right past his friends. He was filled with an odd amount of adrenaline, and he felt crazily free. He had just committed his first robbery. He heard the sirens from the distance, and he decided it was best to take the long route, through the alleys, back home.

He was able to get away well enough. He got back home, said hi to his Dad, and rushed straight up to his room to count his earnings. He made a good $70 from the robbery, and got 5 packs of cigarettes. It was perfect. He felt amazing. It was a high he had never experienced before in his life!

There was a knock at the door, and Hiro had to quickly shove everything into his drawer, standing up quickly and smiling as his Dad entered the room.

"Hey, Hiro, wanna watch TV with me?" Tadashi asked, smiling.

"Yeah!" he exclaimed, rushing out of the room and downstairs. Tadashi had taken to inviting Hiro to listen to the daily news of Dakota, so that he could keep his mind active.

Tadashi sat on the couch with Hiro cuddled up against him as they watched the newscaster talk about an event that was supposed to be held in Dakota Streets soon enough, but Tadashi barely understood it. Suddenly, there was the music that preceded the 'Breaking News' section.

"Tonight there was a small robbery of the small store, Lou's Knickknacks," said the announcer. The screen panned, and then on one half of the screen showed some recorded security footage of the store. Hiro mentally slapped himself for forgetting those existed. "The clerk described the robber as a small, young Asian boy with black, spiky hair. He carried a small knife, and was wearing a red zip-up hoodie." Hiro glanced down at himself, realising he was still wearing the same outfit. "The suspect ran down the street and bystanders lost sight of him in seconds. If you have any information on who this teen may be, contact the police."

"Kids these days," Tadashi said, wrapping an arm around Hiro, "getting caught up in all this stuff. You won't do that right, Hiro? You're a good kid."

Hiro cracked out a laugh, "Of course not, Dad."

They continued to watch the news, and then the doorbell rang. Hiro jumped off the couch and shouted "I'll get it!" before running to the door. He opened it, grinning, and found himself staring up at two, tall, scary looking policemen. They took a step in, and Hiro scurried backwards, rushing over to his Dad, who had gotten up and approached the door.

"What's wrong, officers?" he asked, allowing Hiro to hide behind him, "If you're looking for the kid who robbed the store, my son isn't him. He's a good kid."

"Sir," said the one on the left. "I am Officer McCartney, and this is Officer Yancy. We received a call from someone who did not wish to be identified claiming that your son indeed was the suspect at the case."

"Whoever said that was wrong," Tadashi replied, protectively putting an arm around his son. "My son is good."

"Please," said Officer Yancy, "We just want to help. Will you allow us to check your son's room?"

Hiro's eyes widened and he tightened his grip on his Dad's shirt. They'd find the cigarettes. He knew it. Tadashi just nodded, "Go ahead. You won't find anything." He took Hiro's hand and lead the officers up the stairs, allowing them to enter Hiro's room. Hiro's heart was racing and he hoped to God they wouldn't find anything. They checked the windowsill, and Officer Yancy pulled out an old pack of cigarettes, which held his lighter.

"What's this?" he asked, taking it out and waving it around. He opened it and took out the lighter, smirking. "We've got ourselves a kid smoker."

Tadashi's face was one of shock and horror. He turned to look at his son, who just turned away and tried to hide. Hiro thought it just couldn't' get any worse, but it did. Officer McCartney pulled open a drawer, and there was the cash and the cigarette packs scattered across his shirts. Tadashi was speechless, and moved towards the bed, his legs shaking. He took a seat and shook his head, covering his face with his hands in shame.

"This must be hard to swallow," Officer McCartney said, "Don't worry, sir. Your son has just been misled."

"Hiro," he muttered. He raised his face out of his hands, suddenly looking angry. "Takahiro Tochi, how could you do such a thing? I thought I taught you the different between good and bad, Takahiro."

"Dad, I'm sorry," he muttered. He wanted to leave the room, but Officer Yancy had a firm grip on his arm. "I didn't know what came over me."

"Didn't know what came over you?" Tadashi questioned, voice raising, "You committed a crime, Takahiro! You're not a hero, you're a villain!" he shouted, "How could you shame yourself in such a way, Hiro?"

"Dad, I just—"

"You know what they're going to say about you, Hiro?" he asked, voice cracking as he spoke, "They're going to label you insane. You don't want that Hiro, not after all the work we've done to help you get better. How could you betray me like this?"

"Dad—"

Tadashi turned to Officer Yancy and stood up. "What's going to happen to him?"

"He's going to be taken to court. We'll be taking him to Juvenile Hall before the hearing tomorrow, and his punishment will be decided then."

"Will this have any bearings on his life?"

The officer shook his head, "Juvenile Hall doesn't go on permanent records, sir. It's just for him to learn and understand that he shouldn't be doing bad."

Tadashi watched as the officers took his son away, and Hiro glanced back at his Dad, who turned away, ashamed of even looking at him. Hiro had done wrong, he knew, and now he was to pay the price.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Juvie Hall, based on 'Gear' where they have that conversation about how they all were in Juvie Hall. Shiv, you know, committing his first crime at 13. Kid, sort yourself out.


	6. Old Juvie Hall

**Chapter 6 – Old Juvie Hall**

Hiro was sentenced to two weeks at Juvenile Detention Centre, or just Juvie Hall, as everyone called it. He was to get counselling twice a day every day at Juvie Hall, and had to increase his visits to Mr Hawkins after being released from 1 visit a week to 2 visits a week. Hiro messed up, and he knew it was his own entire fault. It had been 2 days, and he was going to be admitted officially to Juvie Hall for the start of his sentence, and he was already feeling the itchy, twitchy withdrawal symptoms of wanting a smoke.

"Welcome to Juvenile Hall," the officer said as he escorted Hiro into the building and into the room where a bunch of other teens were chilling. They were all grey shirts and black track pants. Even Hiro was in it, after having been forced to change two nights before. It wasn't the nicest place, but it wasn't absolutely horrible. There was even a ping-pong table, which Hiro thought would be fun. The officer took off Hiro's handcuffs and gave him a pat on the back. "Be good."

"I will," he said, sighing. As he walked towards a couch to sit on, he felt every single person's eyes on him. He awkward rubbed his arm, feeling strangely out of place. Everyone there looked as if they were at home, while he was confused and scared.

"Hey, Hero!" called a voice Hiro immediately identified as Ivan Evans. He spun around and saw him, grinning from ear to ear. He walked over to him and took a seat next to him.

"I haven't seen you in ages, Ivan Evans!" he said, "What brings you here?"

He shrugged, "Robbed a place. Was selling cigs to other people, you know."

"Cool," he said.

"How about you? I mean, well, I did see the news. You got caught stealing cigs and cash from a store."

Hiro sighed, nodding, "I did."

"You could've gotten away, I think, but somebody ratted you out," he said, eyebrows furrowing, "I hate snitches. They ruin everything."

"So, why're you talking to me anyway?" he asked, "I'm a little kid and nobody older really wants to talk to me."

"It's cause I see your potential, Hero," he said, "I see that you'll be real useful in the future, you know that?"

"No."

"You don't see it now, but—"

They were cut off when a probation officer stood in front of them, clearing his throat. "Takahiro Tochi, you are required to take your medication."

"What? I already took my morning medication," he paused, counting, "3 hours ago, at 7.30."

"Here you're under new medication management," said the officer, "You will have to take your medication 5 times a day. Twice in the morning, once at lunch, and twice in the evening."

"That's ridiculous!" he said, "I'm not crazy, I don't need that much medication!"

"We don't want you having any bipolar episodes. This has been authorised by the head of the mental health of this Juvenile Detention Center, Mr Tochi. You have to cooperate."

"I haven't had a bipolar episode since my first one," he said, "My medication has been fi—" Hiro didn't get a chance to finish his sentence before the officer shoved the waxed paper cup that held the pills right up against his mouth and tipped in the pills, holding Hiro's jaw closed.

"You can't do that, hey," Ivan Evans said, standing up as if to threaten the probation officer. "The kid says that—"

"The doctor says this is the dosage he must get, so this is the dosage he must get," the officer said, while he held Hiro's head, tipping it back so Hiro was forced to swallow the pills. "Don't disagree again, Hiro. You'll be punished."

Hiro coughed, huffing. "I thought they'd be nicer," he said.

"Nice?" Ivan scoffed, "Nah, they ain't nice here. We're just a bunch of delinquents to them."

"I'm not a delinquent."

"You robbed a store."

Hiro shrugged.

"Look, man. Stick close to me and you'll get through this, alright? How longs your sentence anyway?"

"2 weeks."

"That's fine," he said, shrugging, "You see, I run this place. Everyone here listens to me. That's what I am, a natural born leader."

"You're a natural born leader," Hiro agreed, "I'd follow your instructions. You're really smart."

"You're not bad, kid."

The first two days went by slowly. Hiro went to his counselling sessions feeling drowsy and confused. The medications were so much stronger than his usual ones, and he found that he swayed as he walked and was always dragging his feet. Everything was a blur, and when people talked to him, they had to repeat themselves multiple times over before he properly understood what they meant. He found that his reaction times had also dulled, and every movement was slow and lethargic. He tried to play ping-pong with some Jamaican inmate, but he kept losing, which was weird as he used to think himself as a pro at racket sports.

Then, Ivan Evans put a hand on his shoulder and spun him around so he was looking up at the tall teen. "You need to stop taking those meds," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's ruining you, man."

"I can't," he mumbled, "They force it down my throat."

"What you do," Ivan said, "Is you let them, and then you hide it under your tongue." He opened his mouth to show him what he meant. "The meds are literally killing you, man. You look like a mess."

"My parents haven't visited yet," he mumbled, trying to change the subject.

"Look, kid. Once you become a juvenile delinquent, you're usually on your own. Your Mum and Dad can't help you out no more, alright? You're on your own," he stated. Hiro looked up at him with confused eyes and he sighed, gripping both of the boy's shoulders tightly, then releasing them. "If you ever need help, you come to me, alright? We delinquents have to help each other out."

"Thanks."

That afternoon, at lunch, Hiro didn't take his medication. The officer tried to force it down his throat, and he hid the pills under his tongue like Ivan told him, and then spat it out when the officer left. Suddenly, his energy was back again and he was feeling bouncier than ever. The next two medication rounds he also didn't take, and he was feeling giddier and bouncier than ever. He couldn't stop talking, and Ivan seemed to have grown exasperated by Hiro's speech.

"Go annoy someone else, Hero," he spat, folding his arms. He pointed at some teen girl who was looking grumpy as she read some magazine.

He strolled over to her, taking a seat next to her and grinned. "Hi!" he said loudly, causing her to jump in her seat, "I'm Hiro, who're you? What're you reading, that seems really interesting. What are you in for? Or am I not supposed to ask that, I dunno, Hi."

She stared at him, concerned, "Hi," she said, quietly, "I'm Teresa."

"That's cool, Teresa is such a nice name."

"Thank you," she said, "Did you forget to take your medication?"

Then, Hiro placed a finger on Teresa's lips, shaking his head and going 'Shhhhh' all the while. He broke out into a grin, "Don't tell the guards. Ivan says that the meds are killing me." Then, he broke out into laughter. He jumped off the seat and rushed over to the ping-pong table. "Hey, Jamaican boy, let's play, let's play!"

Teresa frowned, then glared over at Ivan across the room, who just shrugged. "What are you?" she asked, "Crazy? That kid's a nut case, what are you doing tell him not to take his meds?"

"Have you seen him? He drags himself around like a guy on heroine, that's horrible. Plus, I don't need that kind of thing in my future gang."

"Ivan," she said, "He's no banger. He's a kid. He's like 12."

"Correction, I believe he's 13," Ivan pointed out, "I pick my own team, Teresa, and he's perfect. He's enthusiastic, rambunctious, with just a touch of insanity to make him think whatever I tell him is completely right." He glanced over at the Asian boy, who was completely obliterating Kamau, the Jamaican guy, at ping-pong. "With reflexes that fast, I doubt he'll ever have a problem disarming a guy."

"He's a  _kid_ ," Teresa said, "He's only a kid."

"He robbed a store with a knife."

"I heard you got someone to give him the cigs which got him into that life anyway!"

Ivan shrugged, "You do what you have to do, Teresa. He's one of us now. He doesn't see much wrong."

"That's because he's a kid!" she exclaimed, groaning and turning away, "You're insufferable." She stormed off, and Ivan just smirked and watched Hiro as he played ping-pong.

The next morning, Hiro spat out the medication again, loving the high he was feeling. It was incredible; he just couldn't explain it. He was bouncing off the walls, and the officers were wondering whether the medication had enough juice in them at all. At breakfast, he sat with Ivan and Teresa, and just couldn't stop talking. Ivan told him to shut up, which he did for a moment before laughing it off as a joke and continuing his talk about something completely irrelevant.

It was only before lunch that Hiro started feeling the drawbacks of missing his mood stabilisers. He was twitchy and his hands were shaking uncontrollably, like when he was in primary school and couldn't write because of it. Everything was shaking, and he was laughing for no reason. He felt as if he could do anything. He felt as if he could fly.

"You need to calm down, mon," Kamau said, nudging Hiro in the side.

"Calm down? No, I've only just started, holy shit, I feel free. This is amazing!" He threw his arms up in the air and shouted. He collapsed onto a free couch, letting his feet hang in the air for a moment before letting them hit the soft cushions. "I bet I could break out of here, man I bet I could."

Suddenly, every single one of the inmates' eyes fell on Hiro. He glanced around then sat up. "What, don't think I could do it?" he asked, laughing. "I bet I could." He hopped onto his feet and in a second he was gone, having dashed off into an unknown direction. Ivan sat up straighter in concern over what had just happened. Minutes of silent ticked by, then it was penetrated by shouts of aggression from the background, growing louder and louder. Then, there were two guards dragging in a kicking and screaming Takahiro Tochi, towards the hallway that lead to the padded rooms, or what the kids called it, the Scream Box. A guard tried to put a hand over Hiro's mouth, but he bit it. The guard let out a shout and tried to shake the kid off, but he was persistent, even drawing blood. Another guard had to rush out and sedate him, then tossed him over his shoulder and headed to the Scream Box.

"Shit," Ivan said, "He tried."

"This is your fault, Ivan," Teresa said, "You're a jerk."

* * *

When Hiro came to, he was confused. He still felt drowsy, and his eyes were having a hard time focussing on the world around him, with things blurring in and out of focus. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, looking around the small room. It was a padded cell with a small sink next to the bed he was on. He stumbled onto his feet and walked to the heavy iron door, trying to open it to no avail. He furrowed his eyebrows and tried to push the door open, but it was locked shut.

"Hey, what gives?" he questioned, once again trying to force the door open. He took a few steps back, then ran forwards at full force at the door, only to be greeted by the hard twanging sound of a body hitting metal. He stumbled back and fell over onto the rather springy floor. "Hey!" he shouted, "Hey, is anyone out there?"

There was no reply, and Hiro was getting frustrated. He went to the door and started banging on it, "Hey, let me out of here!" he shouted, but nobody seemed to be there. After a while, he raised his voice in an attempt to get attention. He didn't want to be stuck in this cell, not at all. It was the reason why they called it the Scream Box: usually, when inmates where thrown in, they'd just shout or scream their heads off until they eventually calmed down enough to be let out, or have completely given up.

Hiro was a bit of both. He shouted and kicked at the door for what seemed like forever, and then eventually grew drowsy and tired. He had no idea why. Before he was taken there, he had so much energy, and now it was all gone. Eventually, he sat down in the back corner of the cell and pulled his knees up to his chest, going completely quiet. Why did he have to rob that store, he asked himself. The withdrawal symptoms were causing his hands to shake, and the medication he was forced to take made him feel so shit. He hated it.

He heard the door unlock but he didn't move. He had no clue what time it was, or who was at the door. Some guy, a guard? Nurse? He didn't know, but the guy walked over to him, said a few words, and then forced pills into his mouth. He tried to do the trick where he hid the pills under his tongue, but the man stuck his fingers into his mouth to check the pills were gone. When he found the pills, he frowned and dropped them to the back of Hiro's throat. He swallowed them, and coughed, feeling as if they had just choked him.

"You have to take your medication, Tochi," he stated, "We will have to check every time you take your medication that you've swallowed it, alright?"

Hiro grumbled, then nodded, "Fine."

"You're going to have to stay in here for a bit so you can calm down."

"I am calm."

"You bit a guard's hand."

"He was asking for it!" Hiro exclaimed, raising his arms in exasperation. "Come on, doc, I'm a good kid. This wouldn't've happened if you just let me keep my normal dosage."

"Kid," said the guy, sighing, "Just fix yourself up, alright? Take the two weeks in here as a warning. You're in juvie now, but in the future you'll go to prison. Sort out your life."

"It was one mistake."

"Three, if you count starting smoking, robbing a store, and threatening a man with a knife. Also, 4 if you count purposefully harming authorities."

Hiro sighed, "It's not a problem."

"Sort your life out, kid," he said, "I've worked here a long time, and most of these kids are good kids, but led on the wrong path. If you don't buck up and fix yourself and get back on the right track now, Tochi, you're always gonna be a criminal."

Hiro huffed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. "I'm not a bad guy," he mumbled quietly.

"Come again?" asked the guard guy.

Suddenly, in what seemed like seconds, Hiro had jumped up to his feet and punched the guard in the jaw, knocking him onto the ground. " _I'm not a bad guy_!" he shouted before pulling open the heavy iron door and rushing out. The other guard standing watch saw as he dashed passed, and called for him to stop. Hiro didn't care. He had to hide somewhere. He ran up a flight of stairs to the recreation room, spotting Ivan Evans and decided he was his best bet.

He ran straight for the teen, who was lounging on the couch, and scrambled to hide behind him. Ivan looked at the boy that was now clinging onto his left arm and frowned. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I punched a guard," he mumbled.

"What?"

"I punched a guard!" he repeated, louder, then tried to tuck his head behind Ivan's shoulder. "I'm scared. Ivan help me I don't wanna go back in that cell."

"Okay," Ivan said, bending forwards as to give space for Hiro to hide. In the end, Hiro was on Ivan's back, clinging onto the back of his shirt. "Kid, you gotta calm down. This ain't a great place to hide."

"Ivan, you gotta help me."

"You have to find a place to hide."

"No, I don't know."

Ivan sighed. He was about to say something more when the guards burst into the room. Someone shouted "Over there!" as they pointed at Hiro, and all Hiro could do was bunch up the cloth in his hands tighter, causing Ivan to cough at the sudden tightening of his collar. The guards marched over and began prying Hiro off, who just shouted and cried and begged for them to stop.

"Hey," Ivan said, standing up, "The kid's stressed the fuck out. You gotta be nicer to the kid."

"He just punched a guard," said one of the officers as he tried to restrain Hiro's arms, "He needs to be dealt with. We're putting him back in the cell."

"No!" Hiro shouted, "Don't put me back in there! I promise I won't do it again, I promise!"

After shouting on Hiro's part and an argument between Ivan and the guards, the guards ended up sedating the young boy and bringing him back to the cell. Ivan had tried to convince them it was a bad idea, but they refused to hear it. As the guards left, Ivan smirked. The kid was perfect. He seemed to see Ivan as a saving grace, which meant he would listen to him, and would wake up with a growing dislike and hatred of authority figures. It was time to turn the Hero into the Villain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they all happened to be in Juvie together. Come on it was in the show I had to abuse that fact. Shiv, being a true childish child here. He never grows up, at least. Finally, Shiv getting into the bad guy route. Finally.


	7. Bitter Pills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some suicide stuff and just some depressive things, but it gets better.

 

**Chapter 7 – Bitter Pills**

It was 10 days into his Juvie sentence, and because of the two attacks on guards, it was increased by another 4 days, giving him an 18-day sentence instead. He had grown to hate his medication. It didn't make him feel better. It made his brain feel slow and lethargic, and it made everything about him sleepy and slow. He could barely walk or move when the medicine first kicks in, and he'd spend half an hour just sitting wherever he was, staring into the distance, waiting for the medication to slowly wear off so he could at least think properly.

A lot of the times, he hated himself. His parents had yet to visit him, and he was beginning to question whether they even liked him. He was alone, that was what he decided that evening when his pills first kicked in. He was utterly alone. His Dad used to love him, but after that event, no, his Dad hated him. He hadn't even visited, it was a joke. It was all a stupid joke.

Then, Hiro started laughing. He stared at the ceiling, giggling away at himself because something was innately funny about what he was looking at. It was all too funny. It went from a quiet chuckle to a loud, hysterical laughter. Everyone in the recreation room stopped whatever they were doing to stare at him in confusion. He eventually stumbled to his feet, and the room spun around him in all 360 degrees. He tried to move, but when he took one step forwards, he fell, and he was still laughing.

An officer came in to check on his state, pulling the boy up into a sitting position. He checked his eyes and how much they had dilated, even in the light of the room. "Tochi?" the guard asked, "What's so funny, Tochi?"

Hiro shook his head, and couldn't stop laughing. He couldn't stop grinning, he couldn't stop anything. The guard called for help, and tried to get Hiro to sit on the couch, who just fell off as soon as he was on. Eventually, in came another guard with the sedative. Hiro hated getting sedated. He had gotten it multiple times over, and he was starting to think it was an incredibly unethical way to treat any inmate. Then again, this was just Juvie Hall. Nobody cared about what happened in there anymore. Nobody. He was alone.

As Hiro came to again, everything around him was white. He heard the murmured voices around him, but they weren't other inmates, they were nurses or doctors or whatever. He didn't know.

"It must be the medication," one of them said, "It must be having negative side effects on his body and mental health. We need to switch him out."

"We'll reduce the dosage," said the other, "It might be too stressful for his body to be taking this much. He is only 13."

"The kid's dangerous," said a guard, "He knocked out Jones' tooth."

"He's still under our care," said the first doctor, "He will have the dosage reduced, and he shouldn't have another episode like this. In fact, I'm scared we may be too late."

"No, it's fine. I don't think there's been any permanent damage," said the other, "He's fine."

"What will we tell his parents?"

"He had a breakdown. That is what we tell them."

Hiro made a mental note to find out what a 'breakdown' meant. He didn't understand it, like he didn't understand a lot of things. He didn't understand anything, and he hated that too.

* * *

When Hiro was eventually release, Tadashi noted a change in his son's behaviour. He was quieter, more reserved, and preferred to stare out of the car window than talk to his Dad, which was the opposite of what he was before. When Tadashi took his hand, Hiro pulled away and stuck them into his pockets, slouching as he walked over to the car, refusing to make eye contact the entire way.

"How was your stay?" Tadashi asked as he started the car. Hiro just shrugged and didn't reply. "I hope you learnt your lesson, Hiro. I know you didn't mean any harm. I just hope you learnt from it." Once again, Hiro shrugged. Tadashi sighed, "I made burgers for you tonight. I thought you'd like that."

The rest of the car trip was silent. Even when they arrived home, Hiro didn't rush to the door, but rather strolled slowly, to the point that Tadashi was able to get to the door and open it before his son even reached the front steps. When they went in, Hiro went straight to his room, closing his door quietly behind him, and Tadashi sighed and began preparing dinner.

It wasn't that he didn't want to visit his son, no. Tadashi wanted to visit him. He wanted to visit him every day, if he could, but his wife would have none of it. Not to mention, the Juvie Hall itself said that although they claimed to allow visitors, it usually never happened. He blamed himself for how his son turned out. If only he had been there for him, none of this would have happened.

When dinner was finished, Tadashi called for Hiro, who just sulkily got up from his bed and walked downstairs, slowly and unhappily. He ate slowly, spending minutes chewing the same mouthful of food before swallowing. He didn't even finish his food, and Tadashi was reminded of Hiro's first episode the year before.

"Hiro," he said before his son could go to his room, "I want to talk to you."

"I don't," Hiro said, so quietly that Tadashi could barely hear him.

"I'm sorry. I just want you to know I love you."

Hiro shrugged. Tadashi sighed and continued, "I know this must be hard for you, but it was for your own good. You can't get away with crimes, you know. You have to be punished."

"Dad," he said, "Just leave me alone. I don't want to talk." With that, he dashed up the stairs and slammed the door of his room, and Tadashi heard the distinct sound of the lock turning. He sighed, then just cleaned up the dining table.

After he was done cleaning up, he knocked on his son's door. "Hiro," he said, "It's Tuesday tomorrow. You have school, and then a counselling session after with Mr Hawkins, alright?" No reply. "Hiro, just be downstairs ready for school tomorrow morning."

* * *

Hiro hated every moment of returning to school. His Dad was nice enough, but the moment he stepped into his homeroom class, everyone seemed to turn pale. He looked down and went to his seat, tossing his bag angrily to the side and burying his face in his hands. Everything was wrong. He saw the looks on Michelle and Henry's faces when he walked in. They wanted nothing to do with him. He was all alone.

"What's it like being in the slammer?" Trevor teased, laughing.

"Better than being in hell with you," Hiro spat back, folding his arms across his chest. He wanted to be left alone, but at the same time he wanted his friends to talk to him. His eyes wandered over to the side of the room where Henry and Michelle were chatting with the others. When they saw that he was looking, they awkwardly turned away and pretended he didn't exist.

There was something about the looks on people's faces that Hiro hated. He wanted to score each and every one of them off with a knife so they would stop, stop looking so  _mean_. He tried to concentrate in class, but Ms Kimberly wasn't there to help him. He was on his own; he was all alone.

After school, he went to the track in his sports kit, ready for practice. He hadn't run properly in so long and he was rearing and ready to go, even though his face seemed despondent. The moment he stepped onto the track, however, the coach stood in front of him and crossed his arms.

"What gives?" Hiro asked, "I'm here for practice."

"You're off the team, Tochi," was the plain reply.

"Off the team?" he questioned, suddenly feeling hot and angry, "Off the  _team_? Sir, I'm the fastest runner you've got out there, and you're kicking me off the team?"

"You brought this upon yourself. You ought to be ashamed of what you did."

"Of course I am!" he shouted, "Fine, fine! I'm off the team! I hope you like losing because that's all you will ever do without me." He glanced around at his ex-teammates and saw Dmitri and Warren, who seemed to have looks of guilt written all over their faces. He snarled at them and stormed off. He lost everything,  _everything_  because of those two snitches. He wanted to make them pay, oh, he wanted to destroy them for what they did to him.

Hiro's steps were slow and determined as he left the track, and then he broke out into a sprint to the changing rooms, going straight for a toilet stall and slamming the door. He locked it, and put the toilet seat down so he could sit on it and pull his knees up to his chest. Then, he started crying. He hated everything, and he hated himself most of all for letting it all happen. He was stupid, stupid, stupid! for letting all of that happen. He watched TV, he knew that it was wrong to rob a store, and yet he did it anyway. He hated it all. He needed a smoke, but he had nothing on him. Not even his only salvation could fix him. He was lost.

He didn't know how long he was in the stall for, but then he saw feet paused in front of the stall, and then he heard knocking on the door. "Come on out," said the voice of his Dad, "Hiro, I know you're in there." Hiro didn't reply. He heard his Dad sigh and knock on the door again. "We've got to go to counselling."

"I don't wanna go," he mumbled, sniffling hard at the end of the sentence. His cover was blown. His Dad knew he was crying.

There was a long pause, then a little twist of the knob, and his Dad had opened the stall door, apparently with an odd nickel. "Hiro," he said, quietly, gently, and pulled his son into a tight hug. He picked up the small, skinny boy and cradled him in his arms, "Hiro, don't cry. You'll always be my little Hero, no matter what you do, because I know inside you're good."

"Daddy," he cried, sobbing into his Dad's shoulder, "Daddy why is everyone so mean?"

Tadashi began walking out of the changing rooms, heading towards the carpark with his son in his arms. "They just don't understand," he said, "So you have to make them understand. You have to show them that you're good, okay? You're a good kid."

"All my friends left me," he sobbed, "I'm all alone, Dad, why am I so alone?"

"You're not alone," Tadashi insisted, "You will always have me. I will always be here for you, for as long as you live." When he arrived at the car, he carefully set his son down on the passenger seat and buckled him up. He began the drive and told Hiro it would be fine and that Mr Hawkins would talk to him when they arrived.

Tadashi took Hiro's hand and lead him into the Community Centre while the boy rubbed his eyes and tried to compose himself. He probably looked like crap, was what Hiro decided. His eyes stung and he felt lethargic and upset. He hated everything. Tadashi knocked on the door of the office, and Mr Hawkins let them both in.

"Sorry we're late," he said, bowing slightly to the social worker, "I just, my son's a bit frazzled."

"Don't worry," Mr Hawkins said with a warm smile. He looked to Hiro and motioned to the seat in front of his desk, "Come on, Hiro. Sit down." Hiro nodded and clambered onto the seat, looking everywhere except at Mr Hawkins. Tadashi waved goodbye and left the office, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So, how are you feeling, Hiro?" Mr Hawkins asked, taking a seat at his desk. Hiro shook his head and shrugged. "I understand it must be hard for you, Hiro, but speaking really helps. Come on, you know you can trust me."

"I don't wanna talk," he mumbled.

"Hiro, you've been crying," he pointed out, "What's on your mind?"

"Everything."

"Would you like to elaborate?"

"I don't know what elaborate means."

Mr Hawkins chuckled, "It means to expand. You know, go into detail."

"Oh," he muttered, "Everyone looks at me different now. They're all so, so," he paused, "so  _mean_."

"Well, it must be hard since it's your first day back," he said, "You have to understand that it's difficult for people to come to terms with things. Don't worry, they'll forget about this. You just have to show that you're a good guy, and you are, so that shouldn't be a problem."

Hiro was silent, then eventually said, "I got kicked off the track and field team."

"I'm sorry, Hiro," he replied, "Maybe they'll let you back onto the team after this blows over."

Hiro didn't reply. There was a lot of silence on Hiro's part throughout the whole counselling session. Mr Hawkins realised it was the first time he had any real problems trying to get through to the kid. He jotted something down on a piece of paper to pass to Hiro's father after the session, and he hoped the boy would improve slowly on his own. He was scared that Hiro's time in Juvie had caused him to hit a depressive episode, and he needed to warn his Dad to keep an eye on the boy.

Hiro, upon returning home, took his medication and hid in his room for the rest of his evening. His Mum hadn't even come home yet, nor had she even greeted him is she was home. Not that he cared, she probably hated him too. He stared out the gridded window and sighed. He was upset. He wished he wasn't trapped in his house so he could just run away and disappear, because it was all he was good for anyway.

* * *

Days went by like nothing, and Hiro remembered nothing. He came to in a completely white room to beeping in his right ear, confused and tired. He tried to sit up, but his entire body was in agonising pain. He blinked, tried to focus, but nothing seemed to look right in his tired eyes.

"Hiro," came the familiar voice of his Dad, concerned as it pierced through the otherwise silent room. "Hiro, you're okay."

Hiro wanted to nod, or to say he was fine, but it was then that he became acutely aware of the oxygen mask around his face. He glanced around and saw his Dad had taken his hand and squeezed it.

"You're fine now, Hiro, you're fine. I promise it'll all be better," he said, though his voice seemed to say otherwise. It was full of fear, Hiro noticed. "Please, don't scare us like this again. I love you, Hiro."

But what did he do? Did he rob a store again? He didn't remember. He didn't remember anything. Everything was a blank, it was as if his memories had been completely wiped. He pulled off the oxygen mask and coughed, trying to breathe again, and he felt his Dad squeeze his hand harder.

"I'm fine," he mumbled as he caught his breath, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, squeezing his hand again, "Hiro, Hiro, Hiro."

"Dad?"

"I should've been more aware, Hiro. It's all my fault, it's all my fault."

"What?"

"Hiro," he said, sounding more despondent than ever, "You found your way to the roof, Hiro. The roof of our house, and I didn't notice because I was cooking dinner. Hiro, I was so worried. You've been out for two weeks. I'm just so glad you're awake now, Hiro, you have no idea how much I worried."

"Why was I on the roof?" he asked.

"When I noticed you were there, you were shouting and crying, and I had to call 911, but they didn't come in time." Tadashi turned away, then let go of the hand, instead pulling his son into a tight hug. "Don't do such a thing again. I thought I lost you."

"I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, my little Hero."


	8. Chronic Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains use of drugs, but mostly marijuana.

 

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Chronic Pains**

The next year went by slowly, yet quickly. Hiro had to go through more medical tests and psychological tests and he had gone through a plethora of different medications, until they finally settled for a good dosage which didn't fuck with his brain too much. Schoolwork didn't get any easier, and he was slowly falling behind bit by bit. Still, it was March of the next school year, and he was 14, and he thought he was independent enough to do his own things.

He still hung out with Ivan, who dropped out of high school after being released from Juvie. They'd meet up on certain days after school, and they'd chat about whatever Ivan's been up to, mostly.

"Oi, light me a cig, will ya?" Hiro asked as he squatted down in the corner of the alley.

Ivan rolled his eyes as he took a puff of his own cigarette, "Get your own."

"You know I can't. My Dad'll fillet me alive."

"Hide them better."

"Come on, I'll pay you. Just give me a cig."

Ivan sighed, sticking his cigarette between his teeth as he pulled out his pack and took one out, tossing it at Hiro. Hiro caught it, and then quickly caught the lighter along with it. He stuck the filter between his teeth and cupped his hand around the end and lit it. He took a deep breath, then tipped his head back, blowing out the smoke. He then threw the lighter back at Ivan.

"Man, this is the good stuff."

"Yeah."

They were quiet for a while, then Ivan asked, "You should probably listen to your Dad more."

"Why?" Hiro scoffed, "I mean, all he does is coddle me. I'm 14."

"You're still a child."

"You're only 19, stop acting as if you know everything," he laughed.

"I know what it's like to have a Dad that cared and a Mum that didn't."

Hiro fell silent, taking another draw of his cigarette. Ivan had never spoken about his life or his family before. The only thing he knew was that he had a kid brother two years older than himself, who was dyslexic and needed a lot of help, a lot like Hiro. Apparently that was why he helped him, because he couldn't stand the idea of his own brother being bullied.

Ivan sighed, stubbing out his cigarette against the brick wall behind him. "My Dad died," he stated plainly, in such a matter of fact tone that Hiro felt awkward listening. "Two months ago. It's just been me and my brother, and I can barely keep us afloat, you know?"

"I'm sorry," Hiro said, turning his head down and blowing out smoke, "I don't know what I'd do without my Dad. I don't have a big brother like you to look out for me."

"That's why I want you to listen to your Dad," Ivan said, sighing, "I miss my Dad, you know. A fuck ton. The thing is, I thought I'd convince you to join my crew, you know, hang with us, cut school, and all that bullshit. Then when my Dad died, I couldn't imagine what a fucking horrible guy I must be if I wanted to take you away from yours."

Hiro didn't reply. He took another breath of his cigarette and stood up, leaning against the wall behind him. Ivan reached over and smacked the cigarette right out of his hand, causing him to splutter, smoke blowing out of his mouth as he did so. "Hey, man, uncool!"

"It starts with the cigarettes, Hero. You're gonna drop 'em."

"What?" he asked, "No way. My Dad doesn't know."

"But what if he finds out. He's gonna know you smell like cigs sooner or later."

"Why do you care so much about my Dad?"

"Because I lost mine," he stated slowly and carefully, "I lost mine and I will not have you lose yours, you understand me?"

He sighed, "Why don't you and your brother come live with us for a bit? My Dad won't mind."

He shook his head, "We're fine, Hero. Just stay out of trouble, alright?"

Hiro sighed, "Fine, fine. You're a total joykiller."

"I want you to have a Dad."

"I'm not gonna lose him."

There was a long drawn silence, then Ivan spoke up again, "You know Old Juvie Hall closed down, right?"

"It did?" he asked, "Why?"

"Cause of you."

"What did I do?"

"It was all over the news," Ivan explained, "I mean, I guess you were out cold then. Turns out they were being criticised for ethically wrong treatment of inmates, and the fact you went through so much mental stress and stuff, they decided to close down Old Juvie Hall and open the new one."

"Oh," he shrugged, "I didn't know it was on the news."

"The fact you flung yourself off your roof."

"I don't remember doing that," he sighed, "I don't."

"Why not?"

"Bipolar episode, I guess," he shrugged, "I don't remember them well. It just happens, and then it's like waking up from a nightmare."

"Stick with yo' Dad," he said, "He's the only one you got."

"This is ironic advice coming from you, the drug dealer."

"I do what I have to do to keep my brother and I alive, Hero."

Hiro shrugged, "Would you ever sell any of that stuff to me?"

"No fucking way," he scoffed, "If I catch you smokin' anything more than a cig, I swear to God I will beat the fuck out of you."

Hiro laughed, "Good way to get someone to stay off drugs, you know, just beat 'em up."

"You're stubborn."

"I get it from my Mum."

"I've gotta bail, Hero," Ivan said, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "See ya around."

"Yeah," Hiro sighed, "See ya." Then, he headed off back home, hands stuffed in his pockets as he thought about what Ivan had been saying to him. He didn't understand why he should listen to him, but he felt as if he  _should_  listen to him. Ivan knew what was up, and what was down, whereas he sometimes felt that he couldn't even distinguish left from right. Ivan was a leader, and he, Hiro, was nothing but a follower. He'd listen to Ivan, it was what he'd like him to do, so he had to do it.

"How was school, Hiro?" asked his Dad as he entered the house. Hiro shrugged and began walking up the stairs without replying. "Who'd you hang out with?"

"Ivan Evans," he replied, "You know, I always hang out with him."

"Didn't he graduate?"

"No."

"He's so much older than you, he must have graduated by now."

Hiro sighed and stopped hallway up the stairs, turning around and seeing his Dad at the bottom of the staircase, hands on his hips. "He didn't graduate, Dad. He dropped out."

"Oh, a highschool dropout," he said, frowning, "I don't want you talking to him. He's a bad influence."

"Dad!" he exclaimed, "He's my friend."

"You can find friends your own age, Hiro."

"No, I can't!" he stated, furrowing his eyebrows and throwing his arms up in the air. "Nobody wants to talk to me or hang out with me because I'm crazy, Dad! I'm a psycho!"

"You're not a psycho," Tadashi stated firmly, "You're just—"

"Sick," he finished, "That's what I am to you. Chronically ill. Dad. I love you, I really do, but I'm not sick. I'm a lunatic."

"You are  _not_."

"Dad, please, I don't want to talk about this right now!"

Tadashi shook his head and marched up the stairs, taking his son by the arm. He took a deep breath and he immediately smelt the remnants of cigarette smoke on his person. "You were smoking again. Hiro, I thought you learnt your lesson."

"Dad! It was just one cigarette, I won't do it again!"

"Who was it, huh? Ivan Evans? He's a horrible influence, you need to stop hanging out with him."

"He's my friend!"

"I don't care, he's doing nothing but screwing up your life."

"Dad!" he shouted, trying to pull his arm out of his Dad's grasp, "I smoked, okay, yes. He gave me the cigarette, and I smoked. Then he hit it out of my hand and he told me not to smoke anymore, okay?"

"What? You expect me to believe that?"

"His Dad died," he said, "His Dad died and he told me I had to listen to you and stop smoking. His Dad died."

Tadashi's grip on his son's arm loosened, and the boy – now almost a teen – pulled away and walked up the stairs. Before he entered his room, Hiro turned back, then said, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Hiro."

* * *

Hiro, after trying out for the sports teams again, was allowed to return to the track and field team, and was offered a place in the school's basketball team and baseball team too. He was a crowd favourite, what with his speed and his strange skill at anything that had to do with aim and throwing. He was a natural sportsman.

Still, his grades suffered. He could barely keep up anymore, and he was only in 7th grade. He felt like he was drowning in work, and he knew people could see it on his face that he was struggling a lot.

After school, he was headed home. Usually his Dad picked him up, but he told his Dad he could find his own way back that afternoon. He was whistling quite happily when his arm was grabbed and he was pulled into some dinky, discreet corner. He spun around and raised his arms, ready to hit whoever grabbed him, but he ended up having to crane his neck back to look at the tall, dark figure in a large trenchcoat totally unnecessary for their nice weather.

"The fuck are you?" Hiro asked, raising an eyebrow.

"A friend," was the gruff reply, "Word on the street is that you're looking for cigs."

"No, I'm putting that behind me."

The guy pulled out a pack and held it right in front of Hiro's eyes, and suddenly his entire attention was focussed on that one box. The dealer moved it from side to side, and Hiro's eyes followed. "Put that behind you, yeah," the dealer laughed, "You definitely want it." He stuck the cigarettes back into his pocket, "I'd sell 'em to ya, but I want you to buy something else too."

"I don't have any money," he mumbled. He stuck his hands into his pocket and pulled out a few crumpled dollars and a few dimes, "Sorry, man."

"I got something you could try."

"What? I just want the cigs."

He took out the pack of cigarettes again, and held it in front of Hiro's nose. "Take a whiff, these aren't cigs."

Hiro took a deep breath and coughed. "Shit," he spluttered, "That's weed."

"It's good stuff. You got 5 bucks and I'll give it to ya, you can pay me back later."

"I don't wanna get into that stuff."

"Come on, you know you do."

"I know I don't!" Hiro stated with a huff. He spun on his heel and made to leave, but the guy grabbed his arm. "Let go of me, I'm leaving."

"I'll give this pack to you for free."

"No, I'm not taking it."

The dealer laughed and pulled Hiro's arm, stuffing the pack right into Hiro's hand and closing it around the box. "Give it a try. Come on, I'll light it for you."

Hiro glanced to either side of him, then pulled his arm away from the guy. He opened the pack and pulled out one of the messily made joints, holding it out to the dealer, who lit it for him. "Just one," he said as he took a drag from the joint. He swore from the corner of his eye he could see the guy smirk.

It was the strangest sensation Hiro had ever felt. It was like a wave of calm had hit him, and not in a bad way. He hated the calmness of his medication, but this one made his mind feel like a feather and everything became inherently more interesting. He took a few more drags and before long, the joint was finished. He coughed, blowing out the smoke and leaning against the brick wall behind him as he enjoyed the effects of the marijuana.

"Thanks for that, man," Hiro said, his words slow and slurred. The guy gave him two pats on the back and shoved him away. Hiro stumbled, laughing as he found his footing again, stuffing the pack of joints into his hoodie.

"See ya next time."

Hiro walked slowly back home, feeling strange as his mind seemed to drift off into the strangest fantasies and ideas. He felt like he was in paradise, or drifting through a giant, idyllic ocean. Everything was calm.

When he got home, the effects had mostly run out, but he was feeling pretty exhausted. He rubbed at his eyes, which were bloodshot to hell and back. As he stumbled into the house, his Dad turned to look at him and was immediately suspicious.

"You smell," Tadashi said, taking his son's arm and leading him to the sofa to sit down. Hiro was still completely out of it and could barely focus or think straight. "You smell like marijuana."

"How would you know what that smells like, Dad?" he asked, giggling to himself."

"I'm not an idiot. I've walked past potheads before," he stated, taking another sniff, "Hiro, you were smoking."

"No!" he replied, then laughed, "Not cigarettes."

Tadashi began searching Hiro's pockets, then felt something protruding from Hiro's hoodie and pulled it out. He opened the pack of cigarettes and out came the crudely rolled joints. "Who gave this to you? Ivan Evans?"

"No, Ivan doesn't like drugs, Daddy," he laughed, his words stringing together into something almost incoherent.

"Then who?"

"Some guy told me to take it and smoke one," he said, "I'unno who he is."

Tadashi frowned, taking the pack of joints with him outside and disposing of them in the trash outside before marching back in. When he returned, Hiro was still on the couch but had begun sliding down it, and was lying down on the couch with his legs sticking out. He seemed strangely calm, and it was freaking Tadashi out.

"Promise me you won't do these again."

"Mmm," he hummed, "Okay, Dad. I won't."

"From now on, I'm picking you up directly from school."

"What if I wanna hang out with friends?"

"You invite them to our house, but I will be picking you up from school, directly after lessons, or directly after sports practice, okay?"

Hiro giggled, "Okay, Daddy. Sounds okay."

Tadashi sighed, picking up Hiro and carrying him up the stairs to his room on his back. He helped Hiro undress and put him into bed, tucking him in like a child, as if he were still the young 7 year old when in reality he was the budding 14 year old who was slowly approaching puberty. He closed the door quietly and headed down to the kitchen. How was he supposed to tell Hiro the truth when Hiro could barely take care of himself? Tadashi coughed, then coughed again, and his coughed slowly became more painful. He took out his handkerchief to cover his mouth, then eventually the coughing fit stopped. When he pulled the handkerchief away, there were splatters of blood on the white cloth and he could taste the coppery, bloody mucus at the back of his throat. No, he couldn't tell Hiro, not when Hiro was going through such a hard part of his life. He had to be there to support his son, no matter what.


	9. The Truth

Chapter 9 – The Truth

Hiro was a restless 14 year old, and he played in most of the school's sports teams. By the end of 7th Grade, he had been invited to join the tennis team as well as the Football team. He gleefully agreed to all of them, and he ended up with sports practices every day, before and after school. The school nicknamed him the fastest thing on two feet, having broken his all time person best in his 100 metre sprint that sports day. He held about 14 records throughout the whole school, and was awarded the Sportsman Cup at the end of the year.

Hiro's summer was uneventful. He stayed with his family in Japan while his parents went on some honeymoon in England for some reason. They didn't want to bring him, and he was upset. Still, he did like his aunt and uncle in Osaka, even though they were pretty traditional. They did, however, like to coddle him and buy him all sorts of presents and foods. He returned back to America at the end of the summer a few pounds heavier and with a lot of Japanese souvenirs, like action figures and stuffed toys. He immediately set them up in his room on his windowsill, and arranged the stuffed toys on his bed. He unpacked the clothes he had brought, as well as the clothes his aunt had bought for him. His favourite part was a pair of black, Japanese slip on sneakers. In fact, he had three pairs of them, though two of them were two sizes bigger, because his aunt and uncle said he'd need them when he grew up.

He was going to miss Japan, but at least in America they all spoke English. His rudimentary knowledge of basic Japanese statements barely got him anywhere, so his uncle and aunt always had to translate for him. Needless to say, he just wasn't really good at Japanese. Still, he was glad to be back home in his own bed and in his own room.

There was a knock at the door and he sat up, grinning as his Dad entered. His Dad looked so tired, and seemed to have lost a lot of weight over the summer. He had a handkerchief in one hand and as he coughed, covered his mouth with it. He smiled at Hiro and sat down next to him on his bed, putting an arm around him.

"How was Japan?" he asked, his voice weak.

"Good," Hiro replied, grinning and nodding, "It was really nice. I really liked it. How was England?"

"Good," he said, "We went sightseeing, and I bought you a present."

"What is it?"

"I'm keeping it for a very special occasion," he said, "You'll have to wait." Hiro pouted and Tadashi laughed tiredly, poking his son's nose. "It'll be worth the wait."

"Dad, you look tired."

"It's been a long day, Hiro."

"Are you sick?"

He shook his head, "I'm fine. Just a little under the weather. Come on, Hiro, it's bed time." He stood up and watched as Hiro hopped from the bed, quickly getting undressed and then putting on his pyjamas. He quickly nuzzled into his bed and Tadashi tucked him in, leaning over to kiss him gently on the forehead.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, my little Hero."

The first day of 8th Grade was exciting. He thought, only one more year until he was a freshman and that was excited enough for Hiro on its own! His Dad dropped him off at school, and since sports practices didn't start until the second week of school, he was pretty free! Though, of course, Dad had to take him over to counselling with Mr Hawkins after school and stuff.

"It's really cool to be back," Hiro said to Henry, "Japan was nice, but you know, America's better."

"Damn right," Henry replied, laughing, "Did you get anything cool?"

"All sorts of things! It's really awesome."

"Wanna hang out after school today?" he asked, "Michelle and I and some other guys are gonna go out to the video store."

Hiro shook his head and clicked the toes of his feet together. "No," he said, "I'm not allowed to walk back home on my own anymore. Dad doesn't let me."

"Your Dad's really strict."

"He just loves me," he said, "He wants to make sure I don't get hurt."

"More like he wants to make sure you don't go breaking into houses," came the sharp, cruel voice of Trevor. The laugh penetrated the air and Hiro drew in a sharp breath, telling himself to keep calm.

Hiro turned around and strode over to where Trevor and his boys were sat, glaring down at him. "Maybe you'll keep quiet before I break your nose."

"What?" Trevor laughed, standing up. He was still shorter than Hiro, but bulkier in terms of size. Then again, everyone was bulkier than Hiro. "You'd get sent to Juvie again, you know."

"Maybe it's just the price I'll pay to put a bully like you in his place."

"You're going to give your poor Dad a heart attack."

"Don't bring my Dad into this."

"What, should I bring your Mum into it?" he teased, "I mean I can't, considering the fact you barely have one."

"Shut up!" Hiro shouted, balling his hands into fists. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

"Looks like cigarette boy can't handle the truth," he mocked, "You know, you're no hero. You're a villa—"

Trevor was cut off when Hiro grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him backwards, against the classroom wall. A kid screamed and ran out of the room to call the teacher. Hiro snarled, "You shut up. You don't know anything about me or my family, so you can shut you whiney little mouth before I do it for you."

"Okay, okay, okay!" Trevor exclaimed, fear lingering in his words. He brought his hands up as a sign of surrender, and Hiro let go of him, storming over to his table to pick up his back and grabbing his bag. He brushed past the homeroom teacher as he left the room, and she grabbed his shoulder, stopping him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"To the bathroom."

"Hiro, get back into the class."

"No," he stated plainly before breaking out into a sprint to the boy's bathroom. He quickly ran into one of the stalls and put the toilet cover down so he could sit on it, drawing his knees up to his chest. He hated Trevor. He'd make him pay, he would.

Soon enough there was a knock at the bathroom stall. "Hiro?" asked the unfamiliar voice, "It's Principal Jones. I think we need to talk."

"I don't wanna."

"I know you're going through a tough time, what with your parents and your father and all."

"My family is fine!" he shouted, "I don't wanna go to school."

"Don't worry, you're not in trouble," he said, "Come on out. We can go to my office and chat, and I'll give you some hot chocolate."

Hiro pondered that from a moment then eventually got up off the toilet seat and opened the door. "Fine."

"Come on, then," the principal said with a smile. He placed a gentle hand on Hiro's shoulder and lead him out of the bathroom. He even carried Hiro's bag for him all the way to the office.

Hiro never liked the principal's office. It was big and daunting, and only real troublemakers went there. Still, it looked an awful lot like Mr Hawkins' office. He took a seat on one of the plush chairs and looked up at the principal, who sat down in front of him on the other plush chair.

"Something has cropped up that I must tell you," he said, "Your mother said it would be best for me to deliver the news."

"Why can't she tell me herself."

He sighed, "You see, your mother and father are having a divorce."

Hiro's eyes widened and he stared at the principal, shaking his head. "No."

"Hiro, I'm incredibly sorry," he said, "But your mother says that she has filed for a divorce with your father, and she wishes to take custody of you."

"That's not fair," Hiro said, "I don't wanna live with my mum. She's never home and she doesn't love me."

"That's why I need to tell you that legally, you have a choice," he said, "She can argue for rights to your custody, but you can dispute them if you wish."

"I wanna live with my Dad."

The principal sighed, "The problem, Hiro, is that your father is sick. Very sick."

"He told me he was fine."

He shook his head, "Your mother has told me that your father is suffering from lung cancer. It was discovered too late. He's been going through chemotherapy, but his outlook isn't good."

"What do you mean?" he asked, "What's cancer?"

"It's a very dangerous disease, Hiro. He's dying."

"No, no he isn't!" Hiro shouted, covering his ears with his hands, "My Dad is fine! If he was sick he would've told me!"

"Hiro, please listen," Principal Jones said, "He's very sick. He won't live for much longer. Maybe another year or so, but he doesn't have long."

"You're wrong," he said, standing up, tears stinging his eyes, "You're wrong, my Dad is fine!" He began rubbing his eyes with his hands as he cried, and then he ran to the door, pulling it open and rushing down the corridor. He wanted to be anywhere but there. He ran out of the school, jumping down the front stairs and sprinted down the road towards his house. The crying wouldn't stop, no matter how hared he tried. Then, he ran straight into a person as he turned the corner, falling over and crying even harder.

"Hey, watch where you're—" shouted the voice of Ivan Evans, "Hero?" Hiro shook his head, and Ivan continued, "What's wrong, kid?" He knelt down in front of the boy and put a hand on his shoulder, "Why're you crying? Why you skipping school?"

"My Dad's dying," he said through hiccups and cries, "My Dad's dying!"

"What?"

"He's got cancer or something," he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. Ivan's usual angry expression softened, and he pulled the boy into a hug right there as they sat on the sidewalk. Hiro clung onto the man and cried into his shoulder, mumbling about how he didn't want his Dad to die.

"I feel ya," Ivan said, gently rubbing Hiro's back, "I feel ya, man. It sucked when my Dad died, it really did. Come on, kid, you're brave. You can get through this."

"Not without my Dad," he sobbed, "Not without him."

Come on," he said, taking Hiro's hand and standing up, forcing the kid to scrambled up to his feet. "Lead me to your place. We're going back to your Dad, okay?" Hiro nodded, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand and squeezing onto Ivan's with his other. He began walking towards his house with Ivan telling him it would be okay every few metres, and eventually Hiro's crying reduced to a few sniffles.

When they got home, Hiro opened the door and saw that his Dad was sitting in the living room, watching TV. He turned to look at who had entered, then looked surprised at the visitors. Hiro ran to him and hugged him tightly, and the tears started again as he cried into Tadashi's shoulder.

"Why didn't you tell me you were dying?" Hiro cried, "Daddy, Daddy why?"

Tadashi wrapped his arms around his son and shook his head, "I didn't want you to worry." He placed a gentle kiss on the top of Hiro's head. "I'm going to be fine."

"Daddy, are you and Mummy getting divorced?"

Tadashi sighed, "Your mother doesn't want to pay my medical fees anymore."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I'm going to go back to Japan, and I'm going to receive medical care there. I'll be staying with your aunt and uncle," he said, smiling. "Be good, okay?"

"No," he shook his head, "Why can't you stay here? Why can't you and mum stay together?"

"We just don't get along, Hiro."

"Why not?"

"You're too young to understand."

"Dad take me to Japan with you," he sobbed, "I'll learn Japanese and everything. Take me with you."

Tadashi chuckled tiredly, and then shook his head. "I can't, Hiro. You have to stay here and finish your studies, okay?"

"I can't do it without you!" he cried, "Dad, why do you have to leave me?"

"Because it's God's will," he said, "I don't have a choice. I was unfortunate enough to be struck with a curse. I'm lucky to have even lived this long." He glanced over to Ivan, who was standing in the corner, looking rather sympathetic, "I heard you lost your father as well."

"I did, sir."

Tadashi nodded, kissing his son on the head again, "Hiro, this Ivan is such a nice boy."

"He's my best friend," Hiro sobbed, "He's the smartest guy I know."

"Listen to him," he said, "He knows what you're going through. Listen to him, okay?"

"Okay."

"I love you, my little Hero."

"I love you too, Dad."

Hiro clung onto his father and started crying again. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. He just couldn't stop. Not when he knew his father was going to die. His Dad just held onto him, quietly trying to hold back his tears, though a few slid down his cheek and a few hiccups of sobs cracked through the surface as he held his son and ran his hand reassuringly up and down his son's back. Ivan covered his face and left, trying not to think about his own father. He wished he had been that close with him, and now he was entrusted with a boy's life by a dying father. He didn't know what to do with himself.

Hiro, however, couldn't think of the future. All he thought about was the present, and how he didn't want the moment to end, and how he wanted his entire life to be lived in his Dad's arms, with his Dad by his side through every moment. He couldn't imagine living without him. Why, why did everything have to be so wrong? He needed his Dad, and that was the plain truth.


	10. Prescriptions

As Hiro's Dad grew sicker and more incapable of ferrying Hiro around, he was given more freedom to do as he pleased. He hung out with his friends after school and after practices, and often looked to hang out with Ivan as he worked in his little shady drug selling business. At least Ivan let him have the odd cigarette, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get much out of him, since Ivan had decided to become something of a surrogate older brother for Hiro.

"What ever happened to Adam, anyway?" Hiro asked, taking a drag of his cigarette. At the name, Ivan frowned and knocked the cigarette out of Hiro's hand, stubbing out the cigarette with his foot. Hiro coughed out the smoke and huffed. "Hey man, not cool."

"I don't get why you're smoking. Your Pops is dying of lung cancer, for God's sake."

"Yeah," he shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets and leaning against the brick wall, "Maybe it's my way of coping."

"Smoking. Ruining your lungs. The same thing that's killing your Dad," Ivan said, taking a drag of his own cigarette, "That's sick, dude."

"You're not stopping me."

"I just did."

"Well, you'll still give me one if I asked."

"Not anymore, because it's sick."

"You're mean," Hiro huffed, "I'm 15 now, I can think for myself."

"You're barely a child," he said, "You're kind of a teenager, which means you're still young and dumb."

"You're only like, what, 20? You don't have the right to judge."

"I grew up quickly, kid."

"Me too."

Ivan sighed, "Look, I don't see why you wanna hang out with me. I'm technically a criminal."

"Well," he said, shrugging, "I wanna do what you do."

"Be a criminal? Your Dad would hate that."

"My Dad is dying," he replied, shrugging, "I've come to terms with that. He can't control my life from the grave."

"Don't you feel guilty?"

"Kinda, but," he sighed, "I need to feel something, Ivan." He grabbed the front of his shirt, just in front of his heart, "The mood stabilisers just make me feel numb, and I've cried my eyes out every other night since I heard about my Dad, Ivan. I need a thrill. I can't get it from anything else. I play sports and stuff, but the thrill only lasts for a few moments, and then I remember I'm never gonna make it as anything other than a school player." He shook his head, sighing, "I need to feel something."

"I ain't gonna give you drugs, if that's what you're asking," Ivan stated plainly, "I sell drugs, alright. I don't do them, I don't condone them, and I don't like drugees. If you're gonna become some drughead, we can end this friendship."

"We're friends?" Hiro asked.

Ivan rolled his eyes, "Whatever, kid."

He sighed, folding his arms in front of him. "I'm gonna miss him."

"Your Dad?"

"Yeah, he's great. It sucks that good people gotta die."

"Mm," he shrugged, "You wanna do something fun?"

Hiro's eyes immediately lit up and he pulled away from the wall to look up at Ivan, eyes gleaming. He grinned and asked, "What kind of fun?"

"Let's rob a store, yeah?"

"Oh my God, really?"

"Yeah, but it's discreet, alright? You take it, put it in that giant hoodie of yours," he nudged him in the stomach with his finger, "And then we leave. Don't kick up a fuss or else they'll suspect stuff."

"What're we stealing?"

"No cigs. Those are only over the counter."

"That sucks."

"Yeah, your stupid plan was what got you into Juvie."

"I thought I could get away."

"You had witnesses. You never leave cowards who will snitch."

"I'd never snitch on you."

Ivan smirked and raised a hand to mess up Hiro's hair. "You're a good kid. Come on. We're gonna steal some snack, yeah?"

"I want some chips."

"We can get that," he said, chuckling. He began walking off, and Hiro rushed after him and grabbed his arm. Ivan didn't mind having the little Asian boy clinging to him. In fact, it made him feel powerful, being able to assert so much authority and influence over this other person. He had Hiro wrapped around his little finger. It was like having a henchman who would risk his life for your sake.

Ivan lead him to a store down some road Hiro had never been on. They entered, and Ivan told him to go to the back and pick out some things and slip it under his hoodie. He nodded and began discreetly to pick out some chips and chocolate bars. He was thankful for having a huge hoodie on him, since they were very useful for the whole hiding things thing. They walked out of the store with the cashier not even realising they had swiped at least half of the back shelf. Hiro was grinning from ear to ear as they left, buzzing with excitement from breaking the law. He broke into a run and headed down to the alley they often met up at, and Ivan chased after him, though unable to keep up with the energetic boy's pace.

"It's amazing!" Hiro exclaimed when Ivan finally reached the alley, panting, "Look, Ivan, look!" He took out some of the goodies he had grabbed, grinning, "Ah, that felt so good! That was amazing!" He pulled open a bag of chips and began munching on them noisily, "I'm amazed, this is amazing!"

Ivan grabbed a chocolate bar from Hiro and began eating it. "Yeah, well, it's free food," he said, shrugging, "But, you only do this with me. Or else you'll get caught, alright?"

"I'm not that dumb," he said with a mouthful of chips.

"Yeah, you are," Ivan stated, "You need to have someone take care of you, and since your Dad is dying, that's gonna be me. I'm gonna take care of you."

"That's real nice of you, Ivan," Hiro laughed, "Don't you have a brother to take care of or something?"

Ivan's eyes narrowed at the mention of his brother. He loomed over Hiro and folded his arms across his chest, "Don't mention him, understood, little Hero?"

"Okay, okay! I don't get why you're so hung up about it!"

"He's left to go make his music."

"Lame," Hiro said, shrugging, "It's fine."

"I'm on my own, now, you know," he said, "Living out in here, sleeping in shitholes. It sucks."

"You have me, you know."

"You still go home to your Mum and Dad."

Hiro sighed, shaking his head, "Not for long."

Ivan shook his head, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Hiro replied, shrugging, "Look, Ivan, I've gotta go. I've got counselling in half an hour." He pulled out a few bags of chips and chocolate bars from his hoodie and passed them to Ivan. "See you around, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And how are you today?" Mr Hawkins asked, smiling, "You look pretty gleeful, don't you, Hiro?"

"Yeah, I hung out with Ivan today," Hiro replied, grinning. He could no longer swing his legs freely as he sat on the chair, as his toes would graze the floor. He had been growing taller, but only slightly. He was waiting to hit his growth spurt already. "It was really fun."

"I'm glad," Mr Hawkins said, "So, what's it been like at home?"

Suddenly, Hiro's expression changed. He looked sad, troubled, and just overall unhappy. "It's fine," he mumbled, "Fine."

"I don't want to probe into things if you don't want to talk about it, Hiro."

"Dad's doing okay," he explained, "Mum's, I'unno. She's never around. The divorce is going through next week. Then I'll have to stay with my Mum."

"And you can't stay with your Dad?"

He shook his head, "I'd rather kill myself than have to live with my Mum. Then at least I could join my Dad."

Mr Hawkins' expression turned serious as he said that. He stood up to walk over to Hiro, kneeling down in front of him and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Hiro, remember what happened when you threw yourself off the roof?"

Hiro looked away, then shook his head, "No."

"Your Dad was so worried about you. He cried, and I don't think he got much sleep in those weeks. Your Mum was stressed too. They love you."

"My Mum doesn't," he said, rubbing at his eyes to stop the tears, "My Mum hates me. I hate her!"

Mr Hawkins put a reassuring arm around the boy, who just began to cry. "When my wife died, it was hard on me, and my children. I know this is a really stressful situation for you to be in, but you can always talk to me about it."

"I hate my Mum," he sobbed, "She's never there for me, and she calls me a freak and a psycho."

Mr Hawkins frowned, "Does she?"

He nodded, "She's really mean, and Dad doesn't like how she talks to me. I don't want him to die, why does he have to die?" Soon enough, Hiro was shouting, "Why does Dad have to die? I hate this, I hate everything!"

He pulled the boy into a hug and held him as he cried, his entire body shaking as he sobbed. "It's alright to be angry," Mr Hawkins said, "It's what you do with that anger that's important. You can't let the anger consume you. Have you ever thought about going for a run while you're upset?"

Hiro nodded, then mumbled through his sobs, "I ran away from home once."

"I remember that, but that's not what I meant. You see, running and sports can release chemicals, which help you to feel happy."

"I try running and playing sports," he sobbed, "It doesn't help. I can't feel anything anymore." He pulled away from Mr Hawkins and grabbed at his shirt in front of his chest, sobbing, "I can't feel anything but anger, and sadness, and everything else I do is just not real."

"Hiro, I understand it must be tough—"

"Why can't I be normal?" he asked, "Why did I have to be born like this?" He balled his hands into fists and thumped his chest, "I'm a freak, why? I just want to be happy."

"Hiro, you know if you really do feel as if you can't feel happy," he said, "There are medications, you know, which can help you to feel happier, or less depressed. I think the mood stabilisers you're taking are suppressing your dopamines too much, so its harder for your body to rewards itself for doing things you like."

Hiro just stared at him, "What?"

"I'm going to write a letter to give to your doctor, and you can go visit him, and he should change your prescription."

"Don't I need my Dad?" he asked, then he looked down, "I can't go alone."

Mr Hawkins took Hiro's hand and smiled, "Come on, we can go together, how about that?"

Hiro smiled the tiniest bit in return, "Okay," he said, nodding, "Okay."

They walked down the street towards Hiro's regular doctor who gave him his prescription medications once a month when he went to ask for them. When they arrived, Mr Hawkins told Hiro to sit in the waiting room as he went to speak to the nurse. Eventually, after what felt like hours to Hiro, Mr Hawkins returned with a new bottle of pills, which he handed to Hiro. He grinned and slipped it into his pocket, taking the counsellor's hand again.

"Thank you," he said, "What are these?"

"Anti-depressants," he said.

"I'm not depressed."

"Well, Hiro, you may not feel depressed but you say you can't feel happy, right?" he asked, and Hiro nodded, "These should help, okay?"

"Okay."

Hiro returned home that evening and rushed immediately to his parents' room to see his Dad, who was lying in bed, reading a book. He hopped onto the bed and went up close to his Dad, resting his ear against his Dad's chest. Tadashi smiled, stroking Hiro's head as he laid there.

"Hi Dad," he said, smiling as he listened to his Dad's heartbeat.

"Hello, Hiro. How was school?"

"Okay. I hung out with Ivan today, and then I went to Mr H, and then he said I needed new prescription meds," he said, lifting his head for a moment in order to take out the bottle, dropping his head gently back onto his father's chest and holding the pill bottle up, "See?"

"What are they for?"

"Anti-depressants, according to Mr H," he replied, "He says since I'm having trouble feeling happy, this'll help me. I haven't taken one yet, since I gotta take it with the rest of my meds."

They were silent for a while, and Tadashi just chuckled, ruffling his son's hair and kissing him gently on the head. "You'll be a good boy, right?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, nodding, "I'm a good boy."

"No more of this stealing stuff?"

"I don't steal."

Tadashi shook his head, reaching into Hiro's pocket and pulling out a packet of chips, "I heard the crinkling, Hiro. I know you didn't buy this. I didn't give you any pocket money."

Hiro frowned, huffing, "Sorry, Dad."

"You can't take what's not yours."

"I was upset, and stealing it made me feel really good."

"Don't do it again."

Hiro shrugged, "I can't promise that, Dad."

Tadashi sighed, "Hiro, you know that when I'm gone, you'll be on your own. You'll have Mum, but she's not as understanding as I am, you know?"

"I know."

"Then, why won't you stop?"

"Dad," he said, "You wouldn't understand. It makes me feel really good. Like, really good."

Tadashi shook his head, kissing his son on the forehead once more, "I won't understand, no, but I do know it's wrong."

"Dad. Am I a bad person?"

"No, you're not a bad person," he said, "I know you're not a bad person. You've just made a few mistakes."

"Then why do I like doing these bad things?"

Tadashi wrapped his arm around Hiro and gently patted him on the chest, right above the heart, "It's because in here, you've got a monster. A monster that wants to crawl out and make you do bad things. Everyone has it, Hiro. Everyone has a monster they have to fight. Some people let that monster show a bit more."

"I don't want a monster," he said.

"You see, Hiro, the monster doesn't have to pay for his actions. You do. You pay for what your monster has made you do."

"I'll try to be good."

"Good," he said, "Hiro, go and eat dinner. Dad needs some rest."

"Should I bring up your dinner?"

Tadashi nodded, "Thank you, Hiro."

Hiro hopped off the bed and went to the door. He turned the knob and opened it, then turned back to his Dad, "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, my little Hero."


End file.
